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Johnston, Mary, 1870-1936

"Foes"

It is
thought that he got to Leith and on board a ship. Three
cleared that day--for Rotterdam, for Lisbon, and Virginia."
Alexander took the letter again. "That is all of that import."
Strickland once more felt astonishment. Glenfernie's tone was quiet,
almost matter-of-fact. The blood had ebbed from his face; he sat there
collected, a great quiet on the heels of storm. It was impossible not
to admire the power that could with such swiftness exercise control.
Strickland hesitated. He wished to speak, but did not know how far he
might with wisdom. The laird forestalled him.
"Sit down! This is to be talked over, for again my course of life
alters."
Strickland took his chair. He leaned his arm upon the table, his chin
upon his hand. He did not look directly at the man opposite, but at
the bowl of flowers between them.
"When a man has had joy and lost it, what does he do?" Glenfernie's
voice was almost contemplative.
"One man one thing, and one another," said Strickland. "After his
nature."
"No. All go seeking it in the teeth of death and horror. That's
universal! Joy must be sought. But it may not wear the old face; it
may wear another."
"I suppose that true joy has one face."
"When one platonizes--perhaps! I keep to-day to earth, to the cave. Do
you know," said Alexander, "why I sit here wounded?"
"Of outward facts I do not know any more than is, I think, pretty
generally known through this countryside.


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