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290
Zuleika Dobson; Or, An Oxford Love Story
·
Sir Max Beerbohm
229
To
her
and
to
her
mother
he
gave
an
inclusive
bow
as
he
swept
slowly
by.
Stone
was
the
matron,
and
stone
the
maid.
Stone,
too,
the
Emperors
over
the
way;
and
the
more
poignantly
thereby
was
the
Duke
a
sight
to
anguish
them,
being
the
very
incarnation
of
what
themselves
had
erst
been,
or
tried
to
be.
But
in
this
bitterness
they
did
not
forget
their
sorrow
at
his
doom.
They
were
in
a
mood
to
forgive
him
the
one
fault
they
had
ever
found
in
him--his
indifference
to
their
Katie.
And
now--o
mirum
mirorum--even
this
one
fault
was
wiped
out.
For,
stung
by
memory
of
a
gibe
lately
cast
at
him
by
himself,
the
Duke
had
paused
and,
impulsively
looking
back
into
the
hall,
had
beckoned
Katie
to
him;
and
she
had
come
(she
knew
not
how)
to
him;
and
there,
standing
on
the
doorstep
whose
whiteness
was
the
symbol
of
her
love,
he--very
lightly,
it
is
true,
and
on
the
upmost
confines
of
the
brow,
but
quite
perceptibly--had
kissed
her.
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