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Updated: June 26, 2025
When fearing for myself, it is bad, but when for another it is much much more terrible. So have I found it." Her mother came then to attend to her hurt, interrupting Amalia's flow of speech, and Harry went out to the animals, full of care and misgiving. What now could he do? How endure the days to come with their torture of repression?
He would wait for the Elder to come, and in the meantime live in his memories, thinking of Amalia, and so awaken in himself one living emotion, sacred and truly sane. In the sweetness of such thinking alone he seemed to live. He drew the little ivory crucifix from his bosom and looked at it. "The Christ who bore our sins and griefs" and again Amalia's words came to him.
They all ate and slept and worked as usual, and the life of this household was not relaxed for it all. Amalia's activity was not satisfied with working from morning to night up and down the house; they all had to toil with her, and there was forever a moving of furniture, a washing of floors, a polishing of wood, a sound of voices, footsteps, quivering, movement.
Amalia seemed to be unaware of all this. She was pale, dejected, and looked like a woman determined to be old, since her own youth had ceased to interest her. "Is this all that remains of my empire?" thought Casanova bitterly, contemplating her in profile. Yet perhaps it was the illumination which gave so gloomy a cast to Amalia's features.
Laura brought Amalia's observation to bear upon Anna and Violetta by turning pointedly from one to the other as she said: "As for reason, perhaps you have chosen the word. If Count Ammiani attended an appointment this time, he would be unreasonable." A startled "Why?" leaped from Anna's lips. She reddened at her impulsive clumsiness. Laura raised her shoulders slightly: "Do you not know?"
So Harry carried in the gifts and Larry went back for his "courage" and donned his new suit of clothes to help him carry it, and then came walking in with a jovial swagger, and accepted the mother's thanks and Amalia's embrace with a marvelous ease, especially the embrace, with which he seemed mightily pleased.
Amalia's spirit was enrapt in the beauty around and above and below her, so that she could not have spoken more than the merest word for a reply had she tried. The moonlight brought all the immediate surroundings into sharp relief, and the distant hills in receding gradations seemed to be created out of molten silver touched with palest gold.
You wonder why you do not dream of me, since you think of me so much. Dearest, do you not also have your long spells of silence about me? Amalia's letter gave me great pleasure. To be sure, I see from its flattering tone that she does not consider me as an exception to the men who need flattery. I do not like that at all. It would not be fair to ask her to recognize my worth in our way.
Amalia's frank and untrammeled way of referring to Divinity always precipitated a shyness on Larry, a shyness that showed itself in smiles and stammering. "Good good yes. Good, maybe so." Harry had turned back to bring down Larry's horse and pack mule. "Now, while we eat, Harry will be down soon, we won't wait for him, while we eat, let me go over the things I'm to find for you down below.
It was at these times that Larry listened with his elbows on his knees and his eyes fixed on the fire, and Harry with his eyes on Amalia's face, while the cabin became to him glorified with a light, no longer from the flames, but with a radiance like that which surrounded Dante's Beatrice in Paradise. Amalia loved to please Larry Kildene.
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