poppy rears itself; round the
stem of a smooth tree the honeysuckle twines; to a trim wall the ivy
clings.

In her new-found form and purpose this girl had gained a strange, still
power; she no longer felt it mattered whether he spoke or looked at her;
her instinct, piercing through his shell, was certain of the throbbing
of his pulses, the sweet poison in his blood.

The perception of this still power, more than all else, brought fear to
Hilary. He need not speak; she would not care! He need not even look
at her; she had but to sit there silent, motionless, with the breath of
youth coming through her parted lips, and the light of youth stealing
through her half-closed eyes.

And abruptly he got up and walked away.

CHAPTER XXXI

SWAN SONG

The new wine, if it does not break the old bottle, after fierce
effervescence seethes and bubbles quietly.

It was so in Mr. Stone's old bottle, hour by hour and day by day,
throughout the month. A pinker, robuster look came back to his cheeks;
his blue eyes, fixed on distance, had in them more light; his knees
regained their powers; he bathed, and, all unknown to him, for he only
saw the waters he cleaved with his ineffably slow stroke, Hilary and
Martin, on alternate weeks, and keeping at a proper distance, for fear
he should see them doing him a service, attended at that function in
case Mr. Stone should again remain too long seated at the bottom of the
Serpentine. Each morning after his cocoa and porridge he could be heard
sweeping out his room with extraordinary vigour, and as ten o'clock came
near anyone who listened would remark a sound of air escaping, as he
moved up and down on his toes in preparation for the labours of the
day. No letters, of course, nor any newspapers disturbed the supreme and
perfect self-containment of this life devoted to Fraternity--no letters,
partly because he lacked a known address, partly because for years he
had not answered them; and with regard to newspapers, once a month he
went to a Public Library, and could be seen with the last four numbers
of two weekly reviews before him, making himself acquainted with the
habits of those days, and moving his lips as though in prayer. At ten
each morning anyone in the corridor outside his room was startled by the
whirr of an alarum clock; perfect silence followed; then rose a sound of
shuffling, whistling, rustling, broken by sharply muttered words; soon
from this turbid lake of sound the a