The dinghy was trailing astern at the end of its painter, and Merrion looked at it as he passed. He saw that it was a battered-looking affair of the prahm type, with a blunt snout, and like the parent ship, had recently been painted a vivid green.
And whether you think of those little cans as intellectual puzzles or reliquaries or scams, there are surprises inside.
There is no breeze, no slightest shift of air-particles; yet down the gorge comes this cloud,--a cloud unsensible except to nostrils,--eddying as if swirling around the edges of leaves, riding on the air as gently as the low, distant crooning of great, sleepy jungle doves.
The sacred fire, emblem of common, patrilineal ancestry, was kept perpetually burning on the akropoleis of a thousand cities, focusing (“focus” was the Roman word for this flame) the loyalty of a still tribal people.
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