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Walpole, Hugh, Sir, 1884-1941

"The Captives"


He must have been staying there for several weeks, and yet there
were no signs of any personal belongings. Nothing of himself to be
seen! Nothing! It was as though in the bitterness of his spirit he
had said that he would not touch such a spot save, of necessity,
with his body. It should remain, so far as be might go, for ever
tenantless.
She felt that. She seemed to be now marvellously perceptive. Until
an hour ago she had been lost, ostracised; now she was at home
again, clear in purpose, afraid of no one and of nothing. Strangely,
although his sickness both of body and soul touched her to the very
depths of her being, her predominant sensation was of happiness. She
had found him again! Oh, she had found him again! Nothing, in this
world or the next, counted in comparison with that. If she were
close to him she would make him well, she would make him rich, she
would make him happy. Where he had been, what he had done, mattered
nothing. Where she had been, what she had done, nothing. Nothing in
their two lives counted but their meeting again, and she who had
been always so shy and so diffident felt no doubt at all about his
returning to her.


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