The encounter jumped upon us
unprepared. She rode by, her eyes dark in her white face, and scarcely
noticed me. She winced and grew stiff at the sight of me and bowed her
head. But Carnaby, because he thought I was a broken and discomfited
man, saluted me with an easy friendliness, and shouted some genial
commonplace to me.
They passed out of sight and left me by the roadside....
And then, indeed, I tasted the ultimate bitterness of life. For the
first time I felt utter futility, and was wrung by emotion that begot no
action, by shame and pity beyond words. I had parted from her dully and
I had seen my uncle break and die with dry eyes and a steady mind, but
this chance sight of my lost Beatrice brought me to tears. My face was
wrung, and tears came pouring down my cheeks. All the magic she had for
me had changed to wild sorrow. "Oh God!" I cried, "this is too much,"
and turned my face after her and made appealing gestures to the beech
trees and cursed at fate. I wanted to do preposterous things, to pursue
her, to save her, to turn life back so that she might begin again.
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