Chapter 11

           ‘Heheardmeoutwithhisheadononeside,andIhadanotherglimpsethrougharentinthemistinwhichhemovedandhadhisbeing.Thedimcandlesplutteredwithintheballofglass,andthatwasallIhadtoseehimby;athisbackwasthedarknightwiththeclearstars,whosedistantglitterdisposedinretreatingplanesluredtheeyeintothedepthsofagreaterdarkness;andyetamysteriouslightseemedtoshowmehisboyishhead,asifinthatmomenttheyouthwithinhimhad,forasecond,glowedandexpired.“Youareanawfulgoodsorttolistenlikethis,”hesaid.“Itdoesmegood.Youdon’tknowwhatitistome.Youdon’t”...wordsseemedtofailhim.Itwasadistinctglimpse.Hewasayoungsterofthesortyouliketoseeaboutyou;ofthesortyouliketoimagineyourselftohavebeen;ofthesortwhoseappearanceclaimsthefellowshipoftheseillusionsyouhadthoughtgoneout,extinct,cold,andwhich,asifrekindledattheapproachofanotherflame,giveaflutterdeep,deepdownsomewhere,giveaflutteroflight...ofheat!...Yes;Ihadaglimpseofhimthen...anditwasnotthelastofthatkind....“Youdon’tknowwhatitisforafellowinmypositiontobebelievedmakeacleanbreastofittoanelderman.Itissodifficultsoawfullyunfairsohardtounderstand.”

           ‘Themistswereclosingagain.Idon’tknowhowoldIappearedtohimandhowmuchwise.NothalfasoldasIfeltjustthen;nothalfasuselesslywiseasIknewmyselftobe.

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