![]() ![]() At the same moment he raised his head and looked at me. His face was toward me now, and with a perfectly involuntary movement I bent to see it. As I turned, my listless glance included the man below in the churchyard. I looked across the square to where the fountain was playing and then, with my mind filled with vague impressions of trees, asphalt drives, and the moving groups of nursemaids and holidaymakers, I started to walk back to my easel. A man was standing in the courtyard of the church, and I noticed him again with as little interest as I had that morning. ![]() Late in the afternoon, the day being warm, I raised the window again and leaned out to get a sniff of the air. I paid no more attention to him than I had to any other man who lounged through Washington Square that morning, and when I shut my window and turned back into my studio I had forgotten him. I looked at him indifferently until he went into the church. When I first saw the watchman his back was toward me. ![]() There are so many things which are impossible to explain! Why should certain chords in music make me think of the brown and golden tints of autumn foliage? Why should the Mass of Sainte Cecile send my thoughts wandering among caverns whose walls blaze with ragged masses of virgin silver? What was it in the roar and turmoil of Broadway at six o'clock that flashed before my eyes the picture of a still Breton forest where sunlight filtered through spring foliage and Sylvia bent, half curiously, half tenderly, over a small green lizard, murmuring: "To think that this is also a little ward of God!" ![]()
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