famous landscape painting

twice from her horse, but at the end of it here she was. Vibrant, alive, apersonality one could not ignore for a moment. He took off his hat to her mentally. Someday, of course, she would come a cropper. You could only bear a charmed life for so long.His eyes went from mother to daughter. He wondered. He wondered very much.
　　In Elvira Blake, he thought, everything had beendriven inward. Bess Sedgwick had got through life by imposing her will on it. Elvira, heguessed, had a different way of getting through life. She submitted, he thought. Sheobeyed. She smiled in compliance and behind that, he thought, she slipped away throughyour fingers. "Sly," he said tohimself, appraising that fact. "That's the only way she can manage, I expect. She can never brazen things out orimpose herself. That's why, I expect, the people who've looked after her have never had the least idea of what she might be up to.