Was that
night a night of prophesy? Were those flames silent voices speaking
to the ear of his mind? He looked around him like a man in a strange
country, who takes a long breath and liberates his soul in wonder. He
looked around, and the shadowy, thin girl leaning forward on the divan,
with one arm outstretched as if she gave a message, was among the other
flames as a flame upon an altar. At least his instinct had not played
him false with regard to her. He knew it now. In the wild and sad
streets, where feet of men tread ever, where tears of women flow ever,
grow flowers of Paradise, strange flowers, leap flames from the eternal
fires of heaven. And the voice of Cuckoo thrilled him as the voice of
revelation.
Valentine turned upon the lady of the feathers, hearing her cry.
"Marr!" he said, "your lover who died! Ah!"
The brutality of the remark was so unexpected, so savage, that it struck
all those who heard it like a whip. Cuckoo shrank back among her cushions
trembling. Julian made a slight forward movement as if to stop Valentine.
The doctor laid his hands on the arms of his chair and pressed them hard.
He felt a need of physical energy. In the sudden silence Valentine
touched the electric bell.
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