A busy intellect flashed in his clear blue eyes,
meditating vigorously upon the dead man's escape from bondage, following
him craftily to the very door of his freedom, to seize him surely, if it
might be.
This is what Julian felt in his hallucination, that Valentine was
pursuing Marr, uselessly, but with a deadly intention, a deadly hatred.
"Valentine!" Julian cried at last.
Valentine looked up.
And in an instant the spell was removed. Julian saw his friend
and protector rightly again, calm, pure, delicately reserved. The
death-chamber no longer contained a phantom. His eyes were no longer
the purveyors of a terrible deception to his mind.
"Oh, Valentine, come here," Julian said.
Valentine came round by the end of the bed and stood beside him.
Julian examined him narrowly.
"Never stand opposite to me again, Valentine."
"Opposite to you! Why not?"
"Nothing, nothing. Or--everything. What is the matter with this room?
and me? and you? And why is Marr so changed?"
"How is he changed? You know I have never seen his face before."
"You do not see it now. He has gone out of it. All that was Marr as I
knew him has utterly gone. Death has driven it away and left something
quite different.
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