For a month Gilbert wandered round the sick girl's lodgings, inventing work in the gardens in their neighborhood so that he could keep his eye constantly on the windows.
In this time he had grown paler; on his face youth was no more to be viewed than in the strange fire in his eyes and the dead-white and even complexion; his mouth curled by dissimulation, his sidelong glance, and the sensitive quivering of his muscles belonged already to later years.
Sign in to unlock this title
Sign in to continue reading, it's free! As an unregistered user you can only read a little bit.