Sense, and particularly the sense of beauty, lies deeper than reason
in us. There can be no mate for me now unless she comes with
Amanda's voice and Amanda's face and Amanda's quick movements and
her clever hands. . . ."
24
"Why am I so ungrateful to her still for all the happiness she gave
me?
"There were things between us two as lovers,--love, things more
beautiful than anything else in the world, things that set the mind
hunting among ineffectual images in a search for impossible
expression, images of sunlight shining through blood-red petals,
images of moonlight in a scented garden, of marble gleaming in the
shade, of far-off wonderful music heard at dusk in a great
stillness, of fairies dancing softly, of floating happiness and
stirring delights, of joys as keen and sudden as the knife of an
assassin, assassin's knives made out of tears, tears that are
happiness, wordless things; and surprises, expectations, gratitudes,
sudden moments of contemplation, the sight of a soft eyelid closed
in sleep, shadowy tones in the sound of a voice heard unexpectedly;
sweet, dear magical things that I can find no words for.
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