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Olive (Fiscle Part 11) A Novel

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User: silviya
Olive (Fiscle Part 11)   A Novel

Such Was The First Greeting Ever Received By My Heroine, Olive Rothesay.
However, She Would Be Then Entitled Neither A Heroine Nor Even "Olive
Rothesay," Being A Small Nameless Concretion Of Humanity, In Colour And
Consistency Strongly Resembling The "Red Earth," Whence Was Taken The
Father Of All Nations. No Foreshadowing Of The Coming Life Brightened
Her Purple, Pinched-Up, Withered Face, Which, As In All New-Born
Children, Bore Such A Ridiculous Likeness To Extreme Old Age. No Tone
Of The All-Expressive Human Voice Thrilled Through The Unconscious Wail
That Was Her First Utterance, And In Her Wide-Open Meaningless Eyes
Had Never Dawned The Beautiful Human Soul. There She Lay, As You And
I, Reader, With All Our Compeers, Lay Once-A Helpless Lump Of Breathing
Flesh, Faintly Stirred By Animal Life, And Scarce At All By That
Inner Life Which We Call Spirit.

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