I was sick of late, very sick."
No doubt of it! His face was pinched and pale, and the lines about the
mouth were curiously contorted, like those of a man suffering from a
painful internal disease.
"Tell me," she ventured, "do you ever miss anything?"
"Do you mean--are there thieves?"
"Thieves! Against thieves one can protect oneself."
He stared at her wildly, half-frightened, in anticipation of some
dreadful revelation. His dream! His dream! That hand! Could it be more
than a dream? God! His lips quivered.
Ethel observed his agitation and continued more quietly, but with the
same insistence: "Have you ever had ideas, plans that you began without
having strength to complete them? Have you had glimpses of vocal visions
that seemed to vanish no sooner than seen? Did it ever seem to you as if
some mysterious and superior will brutally interfered with the workings
of your brain?"
Did it seem so to him! He himself could not have stated more plainly
the experience of the last few months. Each word fell from her lips like
the blow of a hammer.
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