"If you're glad of what
it's 'not' it might then have been worse?"
She turned her eyes away, she looked straight before her; with
which after a moment: "Well, you know our fears."
He wondered. "It's something then we never feared?"
On this slowly she turned to him. "Did we ever dream, with all our
dreams, that we should sit and talk of it thus?"
He tried for a little to make out that they had; but it was as if
their dreams, numberless enough, were in solution in some thick
cold mist through which thought lost itself. "It might have been
that we couldn't talk."
"Well"--she did her best for him--"not from this side. This, you
see," she said, "is the OTHER side."
"I think," poor Marcher returned, "that all sides are the same to
me." Then, however, as she gently shook her head in correction:
"We mightn't, as it were, have got across--?"
"To where we are--no. We're HERE"--she made her weak emphasis.
"And much good does it do us!" was her friend's frank comment.
"It does us the good it can. It does us the good that IT isn't
here. It's past. It's behind," said May Bartram.
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