"It was when you were so
sympathetic with my foolish whim that I felt we were really friends."
"And I, when you confided your pretty fancy to me, thanked you for the
gift of your friendship, and treasured it, and do still treasure it,
above everything on earth."
She looked at me quickly with a sort of nervousness in her manner, and
cast down her eyes. Then, after a few moments' almost embarrassed
silence, as if to bring our talk back to a less emotional plane, she
said:
"Do you notice the curious way in which this memorial divides itself up
into two distinct parts?"
"How do you mean?" I asked, a little disconcerted by the sudden descent.
"I mean that there is a part of it that is purely decorative and a part
that is expressive or emotional. You notice that the general design and
scheme of decoration, although really Greek in feeling, follows rigidly
the Egyptian conventions. But the portrait is entirely in the Greek
manner, and when they came to that pathetic farewell, it had to be
spoken in their own tongue, written in their own familiar characters.
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