相思夢裏

　　 central cord syndrome. The pain was excruciating and required morphine to control it. Sometimes it was so unbearable14 she had to bite down on a toothbrush to take her mind off it. As the days dragged on, feeling returned to her left side, but she was still paralyzed on the right. We didn't know for sure how much of her movement would ever come back.

　　I believe Kendall wanted the American Idol audition so much that she willed herself to move again. One of her friends brought a microphone to the hospital and put it on her bed. Every day, Kendall tried hard to pick it up with her right hand. It was more important for her to pick up that mic than a spoon or fork.

 And yet no one could call him conceited, or vain, or unduly exalted: he was transparently simple, ingenuous, and childlike; he took everything as a handsome child takes the gifts showered upon him by admiring seniors. He had a rare gift of making himself attractive to everybody—he would be frivolous and gay with the young, old-fashioned and grave with the elderly. He was a butterfly and a man of fashion; there was no better dressed man in town,{139} nor a handsomer; but he was also a scholar and a student, and in whatever idle fashion he spent most of his time, there were so many hours in each day which he devoted to hard, systematic reading and to his own work. It was the only matter in which he was practical; in all other moods he was a gaily painted, light-winged thing that danced and fluttered in the sunbeams. He was careless, thoughtless, light-hearted, sanguine, and he never stopped to think of consequences or results. But through everything that critical part of him kept an interested and often amused eye on the other parts.

Sprats at this stage watched him carefully. She had soon discovered that he and Haidee were mere children in many things, and wholly incapable of management or forethought. It had been their ill-fortune to have all they wanted all their lives, and they lived as if heaven had made a contract with them to furnish their table with manna and their wardrobes with fine linen, and keep no account of the supply. She was of a practical mind, and had old-fashioned country notions about saving up in view of contingencies, and she expounded them at certain seasons with force and vigour to both Lucian and Haidee. But as Lucian cherished an ineradicable belief in his own star, and had never been obliged to earn his dinner before he could eat it, there was no impression to be made upon him; and Haidee, having always lived in the softest corner of luxury’s lap, could conceive of no other state of being, and was mercifully spared the power of imagining one The entire room was faced with polished granite..

So Harold was virtually king of England, appointed by Edward, chosen by the Witan. Yet "full king" he was not until before the altar he and his people had given each other their solemn pledges, until "the blessing of the Church and the unction of her highest ministers had made the chosen of the people also the anointed of the Lord."

There was no time to lose. Already the members of the Witan had lingered for a much longer period than was their wont, and they were anxious to return to their homes. But to delay the coronation until their next meeting was too dangerous to be dreamed of. England could not be left without a king. The burial of Edward and the coronation of Harold must take place at once.

She rarely laughed. But over time Armansky thought he noticed a softening of her attitude. She had a dry sense of humour, to put it mildly, which could prompt a crooked, ironic smile.
Armansky felt so provoked by her lack of emotional response that sometimes he wanted to grab hold of her and shake her. To force his way into her shell and win her friendship, or at least her respect.

“Oh, no! not kind; I wished it,” said Rose, breathlessly, withdrawing her hand as hastily as he had taken it; and then, fearing her strength, she sat down in the nearest chair, and said, falteringly, “Mr. Incledon, I wanted very much to speak to you myself.”

“And I, too,” he said—her simplicity and eagerness thus opened the way for him and saved him all embarrassment—“I, too, was most anxious to see you. I did not venture to speak of this yesterday, when I met you. I was afraid to frighten and distress you; but I have wished ever since that I had dared”—

About one o'clock the enemy suddenly flung a force of about 5000 men against the 5th Brigade in Balin. This was by far the heaviest counter-attack we had experienced since the break-through at Sharia on the 7th, and there is reason to believe that it was directed by Marshal von Falkenhayn in person. The attack was made by two columns, one of which had come down the track from Junction Station to Tel el Safi, and the other by rail to El Tine Station. Just after the attack was launched two large motors came tearing down the road to Tel el Safi. From one of these several officers got out, and climbed a little way up the hill to watch the development of the attack. One of them, from his great height, was believed to be the Marshal, but unfortunately the party was out of range of our thirteen-pounders in Balin.

[Pg 73] vigour, and the 5th Brigade was almost surrounded. At one time it appeared likely that the guns of 'B' Battery H.A.C., attached to the brigade, would be lost, as the country was a mass of rocks, and it was impossible to move them quickly. Assisted by the magnificent fighting of the Brigade Machine Gun Squadron, however, the battery was able to withdraw slowly by sections, firing at point-blank range most of the time it is inevitable that the country must suffer..

Another second and a figure had crossed in the dim light that came from one of the windows. It was a rather undersized figure, Grey thought, but its attitude was crouching, almost creeping, and he might be deceived. Quickly a hand went to the cord loops at either side of the casements and dropped the curtains, and now the room was devoid of even the dim illumination from the street lamps. Then again, for a heart-beat, there was a blade of light visible as the visitor’s arm shot quickly between the lowered window hangings and drew cautiously together the open sashes, first one and then the other.

—Queen Victoria—would possibly have hated it even more. Imagine her late Majesty's feelings on seeing the walls of Windsor plastered with the legend—'Be a sport: Join to-day'—and with other appeals of the same elevating character! ... But perhaps the poster which is more remarkable than any other—considering the source from which it springs—is one showing a garish but recognisable portrait of Lord Roberts, with the motto, 'He did his duty. Will you do yours?' If the timidity of politicians is apparent in certain directions, their courage is no less noteworthy in others. The courage of a Government (containing as it does Mr. Asquith, Lord Haldane, Mr. Runciman, Sir John Simon, Mr. Harcourt, and Mr. Acland—not to mention others) which can issue such a poster must be of a very high order indeed. One wonders, however, if this placard would not be more convincing, and its effect even greater, were the motto amplified, so as to tell the whole story: "He did his duty; we denounced him for doing it. We failed to do ours; will you, however, do yours?"

[9] This aspect is very cogently stated in Mr. Shaw Sparrow's letter to the Westminster Gazette quoted on pp. 370-371 .