Wonders of the Invisible World

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“Was that a note of disparagement I heard toward the incomparable Wilding? I thought all his models fell in love with him.” She made a wry face, flashing the dimples that kept plaguing Ned at odd moments as he painted the dour Cassandra. “He's careless of people,” she said briefly, and did not elaborate.

“What are your thoughts on the breadth of a woman's soul, Mr. Bonham?” “I think,” he said fervently, “I could travel a lifetime in one and never see the half of it.” She regarded him silently for a heartbeat, out of eyes the color of a fine summer day, and in that moment he caught his first astonished glimpse of the undiscovered country that was theirs.

She scarcely heard what her fingers were doing. She was still lost in that little moment when she had looked into Mr. Bonham's hazelnut eyes and seen her future. They say it happens that way sometimes, she thought, amazed. I just never thought it would happen now. I never thought that it would actually happen, only that it was always something to be expected, to hope for, never that it would suddenly happen and I would be wondering: What happens next?

Summer was no further away than a change of expression on the moon's face, a richer hue in the gold that fell freely out of the blue. Even now, heat clung to them as heavily as cloth, beading their faces with the sweat that lured the tiny, malignant pests.

The pattern of the oldest streets in Luminum resembled a wad of thread that had been shoved into a pocket and forgotten.

“I was that young,” he sighed. “Such things are so complex then.” “Do you still love her?” “That young man I was will always love her,” he answered, smiling ruefully. “That, I can't return to her.”