"Listen! Listen! you want me. I am here. Take me! Take me!" And the
weltering seas of heavy flooding impotence rolled round him as they
rolled round Julian. He grew numb and vacant and inert, then--alive ever
to the murmur of Julian's mind--caught a glimpse, through the waters of
that whelming sea, of far-away light, and heard that the voices of the
importunate sins grew fainter. But whether the voices were loud or low,
whether the seas flowed above his head or sank and failed, he was always
conscious of the dominating mood of almost wild perplexity and a madness
of bewilderment. For Julian stirred under the yoke that Valentine had
laid upon him, as if at last conscious distinctly that it was indeed a
yoke, and that it galled him; as if at last conscious, too, that without
that yoke was freedom. And he shot against Valentine in the darkness
arrows of inquiry. But always he lived in doubt and almost in terror.
And then, detaching himself from the triumph, touched with anxiety, of
Valentine, and from the wild turmoil of Julian, Dr. Levillier opened the
door of his mind wide, and the lady of the feathers entered in.
He heard the thoughts of a woman.
That was strangest of all--the most fantastic, eerie, wayward, wonderful
music the doctor had dreamed of.
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