That's the lesson of your strength, Julian, and of all the strength of
the spring. Lie out in the showers, and let the clouds cover you with
shadows, and listen to the song of every bird, and--and--ah!" he suddenly
broke off in a burst of laughter, "I am rhapsodizing. The spring has got
into my veins even among these chimneypots of London. The spring is in
me, and, who knows? your soul, Julian. For don't you feel wild blood in
your veins sometimes?"
"Yes, yes."
"And humming passions that come to you and lift you from your feet?"
"You know I do."
"But I never knew before that they might lift you towards heaven.
That's the thing. I have thought that the exercise of the passions
dragged a man down; but why should it be so? I have talked of men
wallowing in the mire. I must find out whether I have been lying when
I said that. Julian, this spring, you and I will see the world, at any
rate, with open eyes. We will watch the budding and blossoming of the
souls around us, the flowers in the garden of life. We will not be
indifferent or afraid. I have been a coward in my ice prison of
refinement. I keep a perpetual season of winter round me. I know it.
I know it to-night."
Julian did not speak. He was carried away by this outburst, which
gained so much, and so strange, force by its issue from the lips and
from the heart of Valentine.
Pages:
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228