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Thyrsis had been accustomed, when he opened his eyes in the morning, to lie still and let images and fancies come trooping through his mind; he would plan his whole day's work in that way, while his fancy was fresh and there was nothing to disturb him. But now he had to get up and dress, thus scattering these visions.
The supper-party broke up about two o'clock, and Miss Raymond, the lady of the flamingo hat, was the only one who showed any effects from all the wine that had been consumed. Thyrsis, to his great surprise discovered that his host had taken a fancy to him, and had asked Miss Lewis to bring him out to luncheon at the Creston place in the country.
It was a thing of especial moment to Thyrsis, because it was the first time in his life that his art had received any assistance from the outside world the first time this world had done anything but scold at him and mock him. Here at last was recognition here was success!
Just think of her going away from all her family, to a station on the Congo River! She told me all about it how wretched the people are, and what the women suffer. She woke up in the middle of the night, and a voice told her to go told her the name of the place. And she'd never heard it before, and hadn't had the least idea of going away!" Thyrsis was unmoved by this miracle.
Harding, and of the strange vision she had had; she told of all her fevered excitements, and of her confession to him. When she finished she was trembling all over, and her face and throat were flushed. Thyrsis sat for a while in silence, looking very grave. "I see," he said. "You you are not angry with me?" she asked. "No, I'm not angry," he replied. "But tell me, what has been going on since?"
Her body was herself, and it was joy to her; it was joy the more, because she could give it for love; and she sought for new ways to utter the completeness of her giving. She was like a little child about it so free, so spontaneous, so genuine; Thyrsis marvelled at her utter naturalness.
I don't know what you will say to this, but it is intolerable, unendurable, to me. When I think of your ability and mine, I simply laugh about it Thyrsis, it is simply ridiculous. I do not ask you to take me with you, Thyrsis. Do you wonder at my writing all this? You would not if you understood. It is so hard for me to keep any joy in my heart, and I get tired of repeated failures, that is all.
They made new words, also; they invented a whole language for use in these times of illumination, and which Thyrsis denoted by the name of "dam-fool talk". One was always discovering new qualities in Corydon. She had as many moods as the lake by which they lived, and it seemed to him that with each mood her whole personality changed she would even look like another being.
He sang the spells that he would weave for her, the far journeys she should take "For thy soul a river flowing Swiftly, over golden sands, With the singing of the steersman Stealing into wonderlands!" Section 2. This song was as far as Thyrsis had written, and he paused. Corydon was sitting with her hands clasped, and a look of enthrallment upon her face. "Oh, beautiful! beautiful!" she cried.
They carried it all home, and while Corydon scrubbed the celery in the bath-room, Thyrsis got out his chafing-dish and set the beef and eggs to sizzling, and they sat and sniffed the delicious odors, and meantime munched at rolls and butter, because they were so hungry they could not wait. What an Elysian festivity they made of it!
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