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Updated: May 21, 2025
Between courses she sat at the end of the room, waiting in the shadows till Miriam beckoned to her, and once or twice going so far as to put her hand upon Spinrobin's shoulder protectively. His own mind, however, all the time was full of charging visions. He kept thinking of the month just past and of the amazing changes it had brought into his thoughts. He realized, too, now that Mr.
Skale would hear Spinrobin's thin accents: "You brilliant little sound! I hear you everywhere within me, chanting a song of life!" And Miriam's reply, thrilled and gentle: "I'm but your perfect echo! My whole life sings with yours!" Whereupon, kissing softly, they would separate, and Mr. Skale would cover them mentally with his blessing.
And one of them," she added with a scream of joy and terror mingled, "is in my throat...!" If the odd phrase she made use of stuck vividly in Spinrobin's memory, the appearance she presented impressed him even more. For her face was shining and alight, radiant as when Skale had called her true name weeks before.
For the Presence he had been aware of in the room from the moment of entrance became then suddenly almost concrete. It came closer sheeted in wonder inscrutable. The form and body of the sounds that filled the air pressed forward into partial visibility. Spinrobin's powers of interior sight, he dimly realized, increased at the same time.
At the dining room door he stopped, turning abruptly, and at the same instant the figure of the young girl glided noiselessly towards them from the mouth of the dark corridor where she had been waiting. Her entry, again, was curiously effective; like a beautiful thought in a dream she moved into the hall, and into Spinrobin's life.
And the preparation the clergyman insisted upon detailed, thorough and scrupulous certainly did not lessen in Spinrobin's eyes the gravity of the approaching ordeal. They spent two days and nights in the very precise and punctilious study, and utterance, of the Hebrew names of the "angels" that is, forces whose qualities were essential to their safety. Also, at the same time, they fasted.
And then, in Spinrobin's heart, the realization of failure that he was not in his appointed place, following his great leader to the stars, clashed together with the splendor of his deep and simple love for this trembling slip of a girl beside him.
"It will make him ... as God," crashed the thought through Spinrobin's brain as he experienced the pangs of the fiercest remorse he had ever known. "Even without our two notes the power will be sublime...!" But, through Miriam's swiftly-beating heart, as she pressed closer and closer: "I know your true name ... and you are mine. What else in heaven or earth can ever matter...?"
His voice then dropped suddenly to a tiny whisper of awful joy that seemed to creep from his lips like some message too mighty to be fully known, and half lost itself among the strands of his beard. A certain struggling incoherence is manifest in Spinrobin's report of it all, as of a man striving to express violent thoughts in a language he has not yet mastered.
Mawle chanting her alto midway in the hall, acting as a connecting channel in some way, was apparently never made fully clear. In Spinrobin's imagination it was very like a practical illustration of the written chord, the notes rising from the bass clef to the high soprano the cellar to the attic, so to speak.
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