The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. He had more time for her. ‘Of course she don’t understand,’ snapped Charvill irascibly. Promise me one thing before I leave you. ‘Do not speak of him. It is the immediate inspiration of confidence; it alleviates pain, because we know by that smile that pain is soon to leave us; it becomes the bulwark against our depressive thoughts of death; and it is the promise that we still have a long way to go before we reach the Great Terminal. The first Step towards the Ladder. You were only one room removed from the library, see.
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