The dwarf heard the moaning of the stricken girl, her cry, "Valmond!
Valmond!" the sobs that followed, the woe of her self-abnegation, even
in delirium.
For one's self it mattered little, maybe, the attitude of the mind,
whether it would arrest or be glad of the terrific travel; but for
another human being, who might judge? Who might guess what was best for
the other; what was most merciful, most good? Destiny meant us to prove
our case against it, as well as we might; to establish our right to be
here as long as we could, so discovering the world day by day, and
ourselves to the world, and ourselves to ourselves. To live it out,
resisting the power that destroys so long as might be--that was the
divine secret.
"Valmond! Valmond! O Valmond!"
The voice moaned out the words again and again. Through the sounds there
came another inner voice, that resolved all the crude, primitive thoughts
here defined; vague, elusive, in Parpon's own brain.
The girl's life should be saved at any cost, even if to save it meant the
awful and certain doom his mother had whispered to him over the bed an
hour before.
Pages:
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61