He
caught himself puzzling over it, trying to seize it. It was most like a
sorrow, and yet like a sorrow which had been outlived. Or, if a
mystery, it was as a mystery which was such only to others, no longer
to herself. The whole line of thought was too fine-drawn for
Bennington's untrained perceptions. Yet again, all at once, he realized
that this very fact was one of the girl's charms to him; that her mere
presence stirred in him perceptions, intuitions, thoughts--yes, even
powers--which he had never known before. He felt that she developed
him. He found that instead of being weak he was merely latent; that now
the latent perceptions were unfolding. Since he had known her he had
felt himself more of a man, more ready to grapple with facts and
conditions on his own behalf, more inclined to take his own view of the
world and to act on it. She had given him independence, for she had
made him believe in himself, and belief in one's self is the first
principle of independence. Bennington de Laney looked back on his old
New York self as on a being infinitely remote.
She awoke and opened her eyes slowly, and looked at him without
blinking.
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