The Purple Cloud by M. P. (Matthew Phipps) Shiel
page 18 of 341 (05%)
page 18 of 341 (05%)
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This was Scotland's doctrine, which he never tired of repeating; and
while others heard him with mere toleration, little could they divine with what agony of inward interest, I, cynically smiling there, drank in his words. Most profound, most profound, was the impression they made upon me. * * * * * But I was saying that when Clark left me, I was drawing on my gloves to go to see my _fiancée_, the Countess Clodagh, when I heard the two voices most clearly. Sometimes the urgency of one or other impulse is so overpowering, that there is no resisting it: and it was so then with the one that bid me go. I had to traverse the distance between Harley Street and Hanover Square, and all the time it was as though something shouted at my physical ear: 'Since you go, breathe no word of the _Boreal_, and Clark's visit'; and another shout: 'Tell, tell, hide nothing!' It seemed to last a month: yet it was only some minutes before I was in Hanover Square, and Clodagh in my arms. She was, in my opinion, the most superb of creatures, Clodagh--that haughty neck which seemed always scorning something just behind her left shoulder. Superb! but ah--I know it now--a godless woman, Clodagh, a bitter heart. Clodagh once confessed to me that her favourite character in history was |
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