A cold darkness was about her and within her,
and at the end of that darkness the high vision of instruction and fair
companionship was fading also in the night. Despairingly she called to
it; despairingly with all her soul she answered: "I will go on, I will,
but tell me how." The phantom did not linger gently to mock or comfort
her; it was gone, and around her was an absolute desolation which she
supposed must be death. All the pain of heart-ache she had ever known,
all negligences, desertions, and betrayals, were gathered here, and
were shutting themselves up with her alone. Beyond any memory of a hurt
and lonely youth, beyond any imagination of an unwanted and miserable
age, this pain fed on itself and abolished time. She lay stupefied in
anguish.
From
somewhere a voice spoke to her, an outer voice, increasing in clearness;
she heard it through the night. "Child," Lord Arglay was saying
with a restrained anxiety, and then, still carefully, "Chloe! Chloe,
child!" She made a small effort towards
him, and suddenly the pain passed from her and the outer world began
to appear. But in the less than second in which that change took place
she saw, away beyond her, glowing between the darkness and the returning day...
Charles Williams
Many Dimensions (1931)
(Ch.9 - The Action of Lord Arglay)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment