It
might well be true, as any philosophy may be true, but--did it matter
very much? To be enthusiastic about it was the frenzy of an artist,
who loves the portrait more than the original--and possibly a very
misleading and inadequate portrait. Laurie had seen for himself the
original last night; he had seen a disembodied soul in a garb assumed
for the purpose of identification.... Did he need, then, a "religion?"
Was not his experience all-sufficing....?
Then suddenly all speculation fled away in the presence of the
personal element.
Three days ago he had contemplated the thought of Amy with comparative
indifference. She had been to him lately little more than a "test
case" of the spiritual world, clothed about with the memory of
sentiment. Now once more she sprang into vivid vital life as a person.
She was not lost; his relations with her were not just incidents of
the past; they were as much bound up with the present as courtship has
a continuity with married life. She existed--her very self--and
communication was possible between them....
Laurie rolled over on to his back. The thought was violently
overwhelming; there was a furious, absorbing fascination in it.
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