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The ninth vibration and other stories by L. Adams (Lily Moresby Adams) Beck
page 53 of 266 (19%)
may seem a hard saying there can be but a maimed understanding
between him and those who still walk amid the phantoms of death
and decay.

Her sympathy with nature was deep and wonderful but might it not
be that though the earth was eloquent to her the skies were
silent? I was but a beginner myself - I knew little indeed. Dare
I risk that little in a sweet companionship which would sink me
into the contentment of the life lived by the happily deluded
between the cradle and the grave and perhaps close to me for ever
that still sphere where my highest hope abides? I had much to
ponder, for how could I lose her out of my life - though I knew
not at all whether she who had so much to make her happiness
would give me a single thought when I was gone.

If all this seem the very uttermost of selfish vanity, forgive a
man who grasped in his hand a treasure so new, so wonderful that
he walked in fear and doubt lest it should slip away and leave
him in a world darkened for ever by the torment of the knowledge
that it might have been his and he had bartered it for the mess
of pottage that has bought so many birthrights since Jacob
bargained with his weary brother in the tents of Lahai-roi. I
thought I would come back later with my prize gained and throwing
it at her feet ask her wisdom in return, for whatever I might not
know I knew well she was wiser than I except in that one shining
of the light from Eleusis. I walked alone in the woods thinking
of these things and no answer satisfied me.

I did not see her alone until the day I left, for I was compelled
by the arrangements I was making to go down to Simla for a night.
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