The younger people had passed out of sight. But from the rear of the hedge
came to the Duke and Lord Brudenel, staring blankly at each other across
the paper-littered table, a sort of duet. First tenor, then contralto, then
tenor again,--and so on, with many long intervals of silence, during which
you heard the plashing of the fountain, grown doubly audible, and, it might
be, the sharp, plaintive cry of a bird intensified by the stillness.
"I think it is a dream," said Marian....
"What eyes you have, Marian!"
"But you have not kissed the littlest finger of all. See, it is quite stiff
with indignation."
"They are green, and brown, and yellow--O Marian, there are little gold
specks in them like those in _eau de Dantzig_! They are quite wonderful
eyes, Marian. And your hair is all streaky gold-and-brown. You should not
have two colors in your hair, Marian. Marian, did any one ever tell you
that you are very beautiful?"