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Conrad, Joseph, 1857-1924

"The Arrow of Gold"

What troubled me was
the sudden, as it were material, consciousness of time passing as
water flows. It seemed to me that it was only the tenacity of my
sentiment that held that woman's body, extended and tranquil above
the flood. But when I ventured at last to look at her face I saw
her flushed, her teeth clenched--it was visible--her nostrils
dilated, and in her narrow, level-glancing eyes a look of inward
and frightened ecstasy. The edges of the fur coat had fallen open
and I was moved to turn away. I had the same impression as on the
evening we parted that something had happened which I did not
understand; only this time I had not touched her at all. I really
didn't understand. At the slightest whisper I would now have gone
out without a murmur, as though that emotion had given her the
right to be obeyed. But there was no whisper; and for a long time
I stood leaning on my arm, looking into the fire and feeling
distinctly between the four walls of that locked room the unchecked
time flow past our two stranded personalities.
And suddenly she spoke. She spoke in that voice that was so
profoundly moving without ever being sad, a little wistful perhaps
and always the supreme expression of her grace.


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