Seen thus, in the still sunlight, the tall
grey-clad figure possessed all its accustomed, slightly arrogant repose.
Damaris thrilled with exalted hope. For the young are slow to admit even
the verdict of fact as final. His attitude was so natural, so unstrained
and unstudied, that the message of ghostly warning yesterday evening was
surely discounted; while the subsequent terror of the night, that hideous
battle with pain and suffocation, became to her incredible, an evil dream
from which, in grateful ecstasy, she now awoke.
Her joy found expression.
"Dearest, dearest, you sent for me.--Is it to let me see you are
really better, more beautifully recovered than they told me or I
ventured to suppose?"
Her voice broke under a gladness midway between tears and laughter.
"The envious blades of Atropos' scissors have not cut the mortal thread
yet anyhow," he answered, smiling, permitting himself the classic conceit
as a screen to possible emotion. "But we won't build too much on the
clemency of Fate.
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