” His eyes were burning. ” “And yet,” he murmured, “one of the greatest of our writers has declared that the true spirit of Bohemianism is denied to your sex. ‘You did not find Gosse, that is seen, but—’ ‘Gosse? Gosse? Who’s this here Gosse then?’ ‘He is the Frenchman of whom I told you. Twice Spurlock went to Copeley's—twenty miles to the northwest—for ice and mail. Lucy had just began to invoke a solace where John was concerned, doing her best to shelve him as not so special after all. “Go to the far corner,” he said, “and sing the last verse of Les Petites. Really they are the most beautiful things in the world.
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