Flames by Robert Smythe Hichens
page 14 of 702 (01%)
page 14 of 702 (01%)
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beautiful face was rather wistful as he gazed at the fire.
"Why can't these affairs be managed?" he sighed out at length. "Why can't we do just the one thing more? We can kill a man's body. We can kill a woman's purity. And here you and I sit, the closest friends, and neither of us can have the same experiences, as the other, even for a moment. Why isn't it possible?" "Perhaps it is." "Why? How do you mean?" "Well, of course I'm rather a sceptic, and entirely an ignoramus. But I met a man the other day who would have laughed at us for doubting. He was an awfully strange fellow. His name is Marr. I met him at Lady Crichton's." "Who is he?" "Haven't an idea. I never saw or heard of him before. We talked a good deal at dessert. He came over from the other side of the table to sit by me, and somehow, in five minutes, we'd got into spiritualism and all that sort of thing. He is evidently a believer in it, calls himself an occultist." "But do you mean to tell me he said souls could be exchanged at will? Come, Julian?" "I won't say that. But he set no limit at all to what can be done. He |
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