I'll come presently.' She closed the door.

Reardon brought a high-backed chair to the fireside, and allowed himself to forget the two volumes that had still to be struggled through, in a grateful sense of the portion that was achieved.

In a few minutes it occurred to him that it would be delightful to read a scrap of the 'Odyssey'; he went to the shelves on which were his classical books, took the desired volume, and opened it where Odysseus speaks to Nausicaa: 'For never yet did I behold one of mortals like to thee, neither man nor woman; I am awed as I look upon thee.

In Delos once, hard by the altar of Apollo, I saw a young palm-tree shooting up with even such a grace.' Yes, yes; THAT was not written at so many pages a day, with a workhouse clock clanging its admonition at the poet's ear.

How it freshened the soul! How the eyes grew dim with a rare joy in the sounding of those nobly sweet hexameters! Amy came into the room again.
'Listen,' said Reardon, looking up at her with a bright smile.