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Maxwell, W. B., 1866-1938

"The Devil's Garden"

If he told her to do it, she would
go into the stream, and dance and splash--realizing that old
dream--the white-bodied nymph of the wood for him to leap at and carry
off into the gloom. He wrenched himself round, and made his way
rapidly from the garden to the meadow. He could not support his
thoughts. The proximity of the girl was driving him mad.
All through the little meadow and again in the wider fields the air
had a soft fragrance; the sky was high and quite clear, with a few
stars; the whole earth, for as much as he could see of it, seemed to
be sleeping in a deep delightful peace. Beyond his fences there were
the neighbors' farms, and then there were the heath, the hills; and
beyond these, other counties, other countries, the rest of the turning
globe, the universe it turned in--and once again he had that feeling
of infinite smallness, the insect unfairly matched against a solar
system, the speck of dust whirled as the biggest stars are whirled,
inexorably.
At the confines of his land he leaned upon a gate, groaning and
praying.
"O Christ Jesus, Redeemer of mankind, why hast Thou deserted me? O God
the Father, Lord and Judge, why dost Thou torment me so?"


XXIX

Very early in the morning he told Mavis that he felt sure they ought
to send Norah away on a holiday for the good of her health.


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