I did not make a single statement having any connection
with myself, but throughout I was calling on her to think of herself and
of me as of those two. I saw her in my own arms, with the tears of Alys
on her lashes. I was making mad love, though she was unconscious of my
doing it."
"How do you know she was unconscious?" remarked Mr. Penzance. "You are a
very strong man."
Mount Dunstan's short laugh was even a little awful, because it meant so
much. He let his forehead drop a moment on to his arms as they rested on
the mantelpiece.
"Oh, my God!" he said. But the next instant his head lifted itself. "It
is the mystery of the world--this thing. A tidal wave gathering itself
mountain high and crashing down upon one's helplessness might be as
easily defied. It is supposed to disperse, I believe. That has been said
so often that there must be truth in it. In twenty or thirty or forty
years one is told one will have got over it. But one must live through
the years--one must LIVE through them--and the chief feature of one's
madness is that one is convinced that they will last forever."
"Go on," said Mr. Penzance, because he had paused and stood biting his
lip. "Say all that you feel inclined to say.
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