There was something lyric about it
all. Here Nature moved on no formal lines, understood no frugality
of beauty, but was lavish with a divine and special errantry to a
divine and special understanding. And it had been given St. George
to move with her merely by living this hour, with Olivia in his
arms.
The sweet of life--the sweet of life and the world his own. The
words had never meant so much. He had often said them in exultation,
but he had never known their truth: the world was literally his own,
under the law. Nothing seemed impossible. His mind went back to the
unexplained disappearing of that other motor and, however it had
been, that did not seem impossible either. It seemed natural, and
only a new doorway to new points of contact. In this amazing land no
speculation was too far afield to be the food of every day. Here men
understood miracle as the rest of the world understands invention.
Already the mere existence of Yaque proved that the space of
experience is transcended--and with the thought a fancy, elusive and
profound, seized him and gripped at his heart with an emotion wider
than fear.
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