Let the grey hairs in your own head, the lines in your own face,--yes,
the words of your own mouth--tell you what you would know of Karl's
destroyers."
He drew in his lips in that way of his; one side of his face twitched
uncontrollably. He had come to reach her soul, reach it if must be
through channels of suffering. He had not thought of her reaching his
like this.
But she could not stop. "And if you want to know what I have gone
through, look back to what you have gone through yourself--then make
some of those hours just as much stronger as love is stronger than
friendship--and perhaps you can get some idea of what it has been to me!"
He was dumb before that. Putting it that way there was not a word to say.
He saw now the real change. It was more than hollowed cheeks and eyes
from which the light of other days had gone, more than soft curves
surrendered to grief and youth eaten out by bitterness. It was a change
at the root of things. A great tide had been turned the other way.
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