' There!--it was partly out!
Mother turned with a little start. 'You mean when we sleep?' she
asked. She knitted vigorously again at once, as though ashamed of this
sudden betrayal into fantasy. 'Why not?' she added, falling back upon
her customary non-committal phrase. Yet this was not the superior
attitude he had dreaded; she was interested. There was something she
wanted to confess, if she only dared. Mother, too, had grown softer in
some corner of her being. Something shone through her with a tiny
golden radiance.
'But this idea is not my own,' continued Daddy, dangerously near to
wumbling. 'It comes _through_ me only. It develops, apparently, when
I'm asleep,' he repeated. He sat up and leaned forward. 'And, I
believe,' he added, as on sudden reckless impulse, 'it comes from you,
Henry. Your mind, I feel, has brought this cargo of new suggestion and
discharged it into me--into every one--into the whole blessed village.
Man, I think you've bewitched us all!'
Mother dropped a stitch, so keenly was she listening. A moment later
she dropped a needle too, and the two men picked it up, and handed it
back together as though it weighed several pounds.
'Well,' said Rogers slowly, 'I suppose all minds pour into one another
somewhere--in and out of one another, rather--and that there's a
common stock or pool all draw upon according to their needs and power
to assimilate.
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