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Walpole, Hugh, Sir, 1884-1941

"The Captives"

Only to know! . . . to
connect the two worlds, to find the bridge, to destroy the gulf!
Then suddenly the rhythm changed. She was descending again; slowly
the cloud diminished, a globe of light, a ball of fire, a dazzling
star. The air was cold, her eyes could not penetrate the dark; with
a sigh she awoke.
It was early morning, and a filmy white shadow pervaded the room.
For a moment she did not know where she was; she saw the ghostly
shadows of chairs, of the chest of drawers, of a high cupboard. Then
the large picture of "The Crucifixion," very, very dim, reminded
her. She knew where she was; she turned and saw her husband sleeping
at her side, huddled, like a child, his face on his arm, gently
breathing, in the deepest sleep. She watched him. There had been a
moment that night when she had hated him, hated him so bitterly that
she could have fought him and even killed him. There had been
another moment after that, when she had been so miserable that her
own death seemed the only solution, when she had watched him tumble
into sleep and had herself lain, with burning eyes and her flesh dry
and hot, staring into the dark, ashamed, humiliated.


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