And conversely their lips
persisted in the social prefix to the bird's name.
Somehow that anomaly seemed to them symbolic of their lives. Both of
them yearned so wistfully to live always in accordance to the nature
of things. And this, they felt, ought surely to be the line of least
resistance. In the immense difficulties it presented, and in their
constant failures to surmount these difficulties, they often wondered
whether the nature of things might not be, after all, something other
than what they thought it. Again and again it seemed to be in as
direct conflict with duty as with inclination; so that they were
driven to wonder also whether what they conceived to be duty were
not also a mirage--a marsh-light leading them on to disaster.
The fresh groundsel was brought in while Jacynth was pouring out the
tea. She rose and took it to the cage; and it was then that she too
saw the robin, still fluttering on the sill. With a quick instinct she
knew that Adrian had seen it--knew what had brought that look to his
face. She went and, bending over him, laid a hand on his shoulder.
The disturbance of her touch caused the tweed to give out a tremendous
volume of scent, making her feel a little dizzy.
"Adrian," she faltered, "mightn't we for once--it is Christmas
Day--mightn't we, just to-day, sprinkle some bread-crumbs?"
He rose from the table, and leaned against the mantelpiece, looking
down at the fire.
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