The truth of his cousin's story blazed upon
him like an inner sun. In this new perspective he saw that it was a
grander fairy-tale than he had guessed even when close to it. What was
a Scheme for Disabled Thingumabobs compared to the endless, far-
reaching schemes that life in Bourcelles suggested to him! There was
the true centre of life; cities were accretions of disease upon the
surface merely! He was leaving Fairyland behind him.
In sudden moments like this, with their synthetic bird's-eye view, the
mind sometimes sees more clearly than in hours of careful reflection
and analysis. And the first thing he saw now was Minks, his friendly,
ridiculous little confidential secretary. From all the crowds of men
and women he knew, respected, and enjoyed in London, as from the vast
deluge of human mediocrity which for him _was_ London, he picked out
suddenly--little Minks--Herbert Montmorency Minks. His mind, that is,
darting forward in swift, comprehensive survey, and searching
automatically for some means whereby it might continue the happiness
and sweetness recently enjoyed, selected Minks. Minks was a clue.
Minks possessed--no matter how absurd the proportions of their mixing
--three things just left behind: Vision, Belief, Simplicity, all
products of a spiritual imagination.
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