As
he listened the sound of the sea stole into his ears till his brain
was full of it, till he felt as if into his brain, as into those
deserted chambers, the waves were penetrating, the waves of the sea
and those dark waves which gathered themselves together and flowed
upon him from the void.
For a moment they possessed him. For a moment he was the prey of these
two oceans.
Then he made a violent effort, released himself, and turned again to
the chamber in which Hermione was hidden. He faced the blackness. He
was able to do that now. But he was not able to go on speaking to the
woman who remained invisible, but whose influence he was so painfully
conscious of. He was not able to speak to her because she was surely
speaking to him, was communicating to him not only her feeling towards
him, but also its reason, its basis, in that wordless language which
is only used and comprehended by human beings in moments of crisis and
intense emotion. That was what he felt, seemed to know.
Pages:
928
929
930
931
932
933
934
935
936
937
938
939
940
941
942
943
944
945
946
947
948
949
950
951
952