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Show \~f??"C . a creature of tempest. The song'clj;_.~. ';>~,i:~~ the boy Arab under the rock b~ the !"=C · ~ river-she had been ~1ke tha:; hke a [ ::~:,..-.oo.o., winding• airy tune gomg out mto the , ~ ... ·sun. Now she was conscious of the •· ·~.further mysteries, that lead some women on to deeds that strike like hammers upon the smooth complacencies of society, she was aware of the beckoning finger that pilots the eager soul whither it should not go, among the great wastes where emotion broods and wonder is alive. For the first time in her well-filled life she was very consciously in want. She had been fond of change, yes, but of such consecrated change; the change from Mayfair to Monte Carlo, or from the Scotch moors to the Rue de la Paix. Now, suddenly, this life seemed to her as unreal as a harlequinade in which she had been playing Columbine, and something within her desired a violently different life. 48 That she could have it was impossible. Therefore she was unhappy. It was a new experience to her to be confronted by that word- impossible. It seemed to insult her. All the flower of her careless contentment with herself, and her life, and the little kingdom she had ruled, shrivelled up. She was the child crying for the moon. But she was a child who had been offered the moon, who would be offered the moon again. Where, then, was the impossibility she brooded over? It was created by herself and \ existed within herself. The soul's "I could never do that!" was the fiat that expressed it. With the sound of the river seemed ~ to come to her faintly the cry of the ~.. .. mad Marab out seeking the murdered dancing- girl in the moonbeams. It _ was a cry from the savage world on ·,_ ~F.':l ~he threshold of which she stood. |