Page:The White Peacock, Lawrence, 1911.djvu/94

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86
THE WHITE PEACOCK

little chrysanthemums trying to smell sadly; when the old moon is laughing and winking through those boughs. What business have they with their sadness!” She took a handful of petals and flung them into the air: “There—if they sigh they ask for sorrow—I like things to wink and look wild.”