Even more wonderful in their
resemblance to life were the eyes, which seemed to return my
half-fearful glances with a calm, questioning scrutiny I found it hard
to endure. I hurried on after my guide without speaking, but when I got
to the middle of the room I paused involuntarily once more, so
profoundly did one of the statues impress me. It was of a woman of a
majestic figure and proud, beautiful face, with an abundance of
silvery-white hair. She sat bending forward with her eyes fixed on mine
as I advanced, one hand pressed to her bosom, while with the other she
seemed in the act of throwing back her white unbound tresses from her
forehead. There was, I thought, a look of calm, unbending pride on the
face, but on coming closer this expression disappeared, giving place to
one so wistful and pleading, so charged with subtle pain, that I stood
gazing like one fascinated, until Yoletta took my hand and gently drew
me away. Still, in spite of the absorbing nature of the matter on which
I was bound, that strange face continued to haunt me, and glancing up
and down through that long array of calm-browed, beautiful women, I
could see no one that was like it.
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