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Updated: May 21, 2025
I told Ponto when I said good-bye to him that it would be some time before I saw him again. How was I to explain partings to him? The monstrous rôle that geography plays in our lives? I just told him that I loved him, that his image was in my heart, that our separation was only the preparation of a glorious meeting when old-remembered delights would merge into newly discovered ones.
O, your old-remembered guest of a beggar becomes as well acquainted with you as he is with his dish as intimate as one of the beasts familiar to man which signify love, and with which his own trade is especially conversant. Who is he? why, he has gone the vole has been soldier, ballad-singer, travelling tinker, and is now a beggar.
'Tis so easy to get from London to Bath, by merely stepping into a railway carriage which takes you smoothly without a stop in two short hours from Paddington, that I was amazed at myself in having allowed five full years to pass since my previous visit. The question was much in my mind as I strolled about noting the old-remembered names of streets and squares and crescents.
In travelling, one is apt to come upon some old-remembered face, which he had been accustomed to in such different circumstances that he has a difficulty in recognising it. It may be in some village obscurity of our own country, some German watering-place, or some American wilderness. There it is, however, the once familiar face; and you cannot pass it unheeded.
O, your old-remembered guest of a beggar becomes as well acquainted with you as he is with his dish as intimate as one of the beasts familiar to man which signify love, and with which his own trade is especially conversant. Who is he? why, he has gone the vole has been soldier, ballad-singer, travelling tinker, and is now a beggar.
If rain made the leaves to droop, or scudded in sheets along the causeways, she sang plaintively, the wounded, aggrieved, hurt notes of the nightingale. Her song then would be some old-remembered sorrow of her land of Ginevra degli Almieri, the wandering wife; of the Donna Lombarda, who poisoned her lover; or of the Countess Costanza's violated vow.
"Look here, Bim," he said aloud, "I've left you up I really am going off my head!" he thought. He hurried away. "If I am mad I'm awfully happy," he said. The white vicarage gate closed behind him with precisely the old-remembered sound the whiz, the sudden startled pause, the satisfied click. Seymour stood on the sun-bathed lawn, glittering now like green glass, and stared at the house.
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