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The Dark Flower


Galsworthy, John, 1867-1933 / 2008-10-18 00:00:00

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Produced by Donald Lainson; David Widger


THE DARK FLOWER
by John Galsworthy


"Take the flower from my breast, I pray thee,
Take the flower too from out my tresses;
And then go hence, for see, the night is fair,
The stars rejoice to watch thee on thy way."
--From "The Bard of the Dimbovitza."


THE DARK FLOWER

PART I--SPRING

I

He walked along Holywell that afternoon of early June with his short
gown drooping down his arms, and no cap on his thick dark hair. A youth
of middle height, and built as if he had come of two very different
strains, one sturdy, the other wiry and light. His face, too, was a
curious blend, for, though it was strongly formed, its expression was
rather soft and moody. His eyes--dark grey, with a good deal of light in
them, and very black lashes--had a way of looking beyond what they saw,
so that he did not seem always to be quite present; but his smile was
exceedingly swift, uncovering teeth as white as a negro's, and giving
his face a peculiar eagerness. People stared at him a little as he
passed--since in eighteen hundred and eighty he was before his time in
not wearing a cap. Women especially were interested; they perceived that
he took no notice of them, seeming rather to be looking into distance,
and making combinations in his soul.
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