Many Europeans who go to India return to their own continent
imbued with a belief in miracles, modern miracles, which no argument, no
sarcasm, can shake. But there are miracles in Europe too. The magicians
of the East work wonders in the strange atmosphere of that strange
country, whose very air is heavy with magic. Yet England, too, has her
magicians. London holds in the arms of its yellow fogs and dust-laden
clouds miracles. Doctor Levillier found himself assailed by ideas like
these as he thought of that transformed Marr, "possessed," as the pale,
strongly built wreck of a grand, powerful woman had named it, as he
thought of the transformed Valentine, the hour of whose transformation
coincided with the hour of Marr's death. Why had this new, horrible,
yet beautiful creature risen out of the ashes of the trance that was
practically a death? Why had he such amazing points of resemblance to
Marr? Why had the influence of Marr been deliberately intruded into the
calm, happy, and safe lives of Julian and Valentine? Marr was cruel to
dogs, and dogs showed rage and terror when the new Valentine approached
them. Marr had a hatred, yet a knowledge of music. The new Valentine,
when forced to sing, sang like some wild, desolate thing, with reluctant
and terrible voice.
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