"Come," said I; "Constance and I will set off at once, our things
are in the hall. Run up and fetch your manuscript, Gabriel."
I put my foot through the flounce of my petticoat on the way, so
Constance took me up to her room for a needle and cotton. When we
came down again, Gabriel was in the morning-room; he had drawn up
the blind and was watching the moon.
"I call this very nice," said I. "Our party is the better of the
two."
Constance lighted the lamp, and we sat down, all three, at the
table,--Gabriel with his back to the window, Constance opposite him,
and I between them, to the right of the table.
Then he began to read.
How it went with them I know not, but I was soon entirely lost in
what I heard. With my head upon my arm I listened, the visions that
he conjured filled my eyes, the music of his words engrossed my
ears; more beautiful in form and purpose than anything he yet had
written, this last canto filled me with joy and pride.
When the last words fell, I did not raise my head from the table.
Heaven knows why, but I did not want to let them see, not even them,
that the tears were gushing from my eyes.
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