Perhaps a
little of the gold has been left clinging to the crucible--and for that
I have to thank you, my dear.
Margaret Leonora Eyles.
Bexhill-on-Sea, _1st February, 1920._
"Man comes into life to seek and find his sufficient beauty, to
serve it, to win and increase it, to fight for it; to face anything
and dare anything for it, counting death as nothing so long as the
dying eyes still turn to it. And fear and dulness and indolence and
appetite--which, indeed, are no more than fear's three crippled brothers
who make ambushes and creep by night--are against him, to delay him, to
hold him off, to hamper and beguile and kill him in that quest."
H. G. Wells ("The History of Mr. Polly").
Captivity
CHAPTER I
As long as Marcella could remember, the old farm-house had lain in
shadows, without and within.
Behind it rose the great height of Ben Grief, with his gaunt face gashed
here by glowering groups of conifers, there by burns that ran down to
the River Nagar like tears down a wrinkled old face. Marcella had read
in poetry books about burns that sang and laughing waters that clattered
to the sea for all the world like happy children running home from
school. But the waters on Ben Grief neither laughed nor sang. Sometimes
they ran violently, as though Ben Grief were in a rage of passionate
weeping; sometimes they went sullenly as though he sulked.
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