"Molly, do you believe it was an accident?"
She started and her hands shook.
"He said so at the end--otherwise--how--how could it have happened?"
"Yes, how could it have happened?" he repeated, and added after a pause,
"He was a fine fellow. I always liked him."
Her tears choked her, and when she had recovered her voice, she put
a question or two about Blossom--delaying, through some instinct of
flight, the moment for which she had so passionately longed.
"It was all so unnecessary," she said, "that is the worst of it. It
might just as easily not have happened."
"I wish I could be of some use," he answered. "Perhaps Mr. Chamberlayne
has thought of something he would like me to do?"
"He is in the library. Uncle Abednego will show you."
He put out his hand, "Then good-bye, Molly," he said gently.
But at the first touch of his fingers the spell was broken, and the
mystery of life, not of death, rushed over her like waves of light.
She knew now that she was alive--that the indestructible desire for
happiness was still in her heart. The meaning of life did not matter
while the exquisite, the burning sense of its sweetness remained.
Pages:
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542