It’s just life, pure life, life nascent, running clear and strong. “I always get off here and lean over that rail for a bit. Here we go, thought Gerald. Before the congregation separated, the clergyman descended from the pulpit; and, followed by the coffin-bearers and mourners, and by Jack at a respectful distance, entered the churchyard. Believe me, the bitterness of it has almost departed, crushed out of me together with much of the weariness and sorrow I brought with me here by the nameless glory of these lonely months. She rang again with the same result. Already the seed of a tender dream was stirring. Madame Valade was looking heartily bored, he noted, as his searching eyes found out the couple. It was painted in the early seventeenth century by a minor artist named DuPre.
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