large/5293/cruelpainter_1203_librivox_64kb_mp3/cruelpainter_2_macdonald_64kb_107
large/5293/cruelpainter_1203_librivox_64kb_mp3/cruelpainter_2_macdonald_64kb
English
5293
And what if they might sometimes cross each other's path, meet, know that they met, love on? AND WHAT IF THEY MIGHT SOMETIMES CROSS EACH OTHER'S PATH MEET KNOW THEY HAD MET LOVE ON
hich she had often felt to be upon her when she did not see them, wild with repressed longing, the light of their love shining through the veil of diffused tears, ever gathering and never overflowing. Then came the pale face, so worshipping, so distant in its self-withdrawn devotion, slowly dawning out of the vapours of her reverie. When it vanished, she tried to see it again. It would not come when she called it; but when her thoughts left knocking at the door of the lost, and wandered away, out came the pale, troubled, silent face again, gathering itself up from some unknown nook in her world of phantasy, and once more, when she tried to steady it by the fixedness of her own regard, fading back into the mist. So the phantasm of the dead drew near and wooed, as the living had never dared.--What if there were any good in loving? What if men and women did not die all out, but some dim shade of each, like that pale, mind-ghost of Wolkenlicht, floated through the eternal vapours of chaos? PASSED THE EYES OF WOLKENLICHT WHICH SHE HAD SO OFTEN FELT TO BE UPON HER WHEN SHE DID NOT SEE THEM WILD WITH REPRESSED LONGING THE LIGHT OF THEIR LOVE SHINING THROUGH THE VEIL OF DIFFUSED TEARS EVER GATHERING AND NEVER OVERFLOWING THEN CAME THE PALE FACE SO WORSHIPPING SO DISTANT IN ITS SELF WITHDRAWN DEVOTION SLOWLY DAWNING OUT OF THE VAPOURS OF HER REVERIE WHEN IT VANISHED SHE TRIED TO SEE IT AGAIN IT WOULD NOT COME WHEN SHE CALLED IT BUT WHEN HER THOUGHTS LEFT KNOCKING AT THE DOOR OF THE LOST AND WANDERED AWAY OUT CAME THE PALE TROUBLED SILENT FACE AGAIN GATHERING ITSELF UP FROM SOME UNKNOWN NOOK IN HER WORLD OF FANTASY AND ONCE MORE WHEN SHE TRIED TO STEADY IT BY THE FIXEDNESS OF HER REGARD FADING BACK INTO THE MIST SO THE PHANTASM OF THE DEAD DREW NEAR AND WOOED AS THE LIVING HAD NEVER DARED WHAT IF THERE WERE ANY GOOD IN LOVING WHAT IF MEN AND WOMEN DID NOT ALL DIE OUT BUT SOME DIM SHADE OF EACH LIKE THAT PALE MIND GHOST OF WOLKENLICHT FLOATED THROUGH THE ETERNAL VAPORS OF CHAOS
large/5293/cruelpainter_1203_librivox_64kb_mp3/cruelpainter_2_macdonald_64kb
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