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Beerbohm, Max, Sir, 1872-1956

"Zuleika Dobson, or, an Oxford love story"


Zuleika neither quickened nor slackened her advance. But brightlier
and brightlier shone her eyes.
The vanguard of the procession was pausing now, swaying, breaking at
sight of her. She passed, imperial, through the way cloven for her.
All a-down the avenue, the throng parted as though some great
invisible comb were being drawn through it. The few youths who had
already seen Zuleika, and by whom her beauty had been bruited
throughout the University, were lost in a new wonder, so incomparably
fairer was she than the remembered vision. And the rest hardly
recognised her from the descriptions, so incomparably fairer was the
reality than the hope.
She passed among them. None questioned the worthiness of her escort.
Could I give you better proof the awe in which our Duke was held? Any
man is glad to be seen escorting a very pretty woman. He thinks it
adds to his prestige. Whereas, in point of fact, his fellow-men are
saying merely "Who's that appalling fellow with her?" or "Why does she
go about with that ass So-and-So?" Such cavil may in part be envy. But
it is a fact that no man, howsoever graced, can shine in juxtaposition
to a very pretty woman. The Duke himself cut a poor figure beside
Zuleika.


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