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Updated: June 8, 2025
If that is love, we may yet all develop into passionless promoters of a flat and unprofitable commonwealth; the earth may yet be changed to a sweetmeat for us to feed on, and the sea to sugary lemonade for us to drink, as the mad philosopher foretold, and we may yet all be happy after love has left us." Unorna smiled, while he laughed again. "Good," she said.
"The counsels of wise men of the wisest have been useless, as well as the dreams of women who fancy they have the gift of mental sight beyond the limit of bodily vision." "Who fancy they see!" exclaimed Unorna, almost glad to find that she was still strong enough to feel annoyance at the slight. "I beg your pardon. I do not mean to doubt your powers, of which I have had no experience."
She had managed it so well that it was almost impossible to avoid speaking as they threaded the long corridors together. Unorna allowed a moment to pass, as though to let her companion understand the slight awkwardness of the situation, and then addressed her in a tone of quiet and natural civility. "We seem to be the only ladies in retreat," she said. "Yes," Beatrice answered.
It was quite a common thing for ladies to seek retreat and quiet in the convent during two or three weeks of the year, and there was plenty of available space at the disposal of those who wished to do so. Such visits were indeed most commonly made during the lenten season, and on the day when Unorna sought refuge among the nuns it chanced that there was but one other stranger within the walls.
Do you know what it means to die? How can you comprehend that word you girl, you child, you thing of five and twenty summers!" "It was to be supposed that your own fears were at the root of your anger," observed Unorna, sitting down upon her chair and calmly folding her hands as though to wait until the storm should pass over. "Is there anything at the root of anything except Self?
"Your word is my law," said Kafka, drawing back. His eyes were bright and his thin cheek was flushed. It was long since she had spoken so kindly to him. A ray of hope entered his life. The Wanderer saw the look and interpreted it rightly. He understood that in that brief moment Unorna had found time to do some mischief.
There were moments when Unorna, in favourable circumstances, was able to sink into the so-called state of second sight, by an act of volition, and she wished now that she could close her eyes and see the face of the woman who was only separated from her by two or three walls. But that was not possible in this case.
We have but fancied that it would be sweet to love, and the knife of truth has parted the web of our dreams, keenly, in the midst, so that we see before us what is, though the ghost of what might have been is yet lingering near." "Who wove that web, Unorna? You, or I?" He lifted his heavy eyes and gazed at her coiled hair. "What matters it whether it was your doing or mine?
A moment more and his limbs regained their strength, he stood upright and passed his hand over his eyes as though trying to remember what had happened. "How came I here?" he asked in surprise. "What has happened to me?" "You fainted," said Unorna quietly. "You remember that you were very tired after your journey. The walk was too much for you. We will take you home." "Yes yes I must have fainted.
He noted some of the results of his observations in a pocket-book. Unorna stood still and watched him. "Do you remember ever to have been in the least degree like other people?" she asked, speaking after a long silence, as he was returning his notes to his pocket. "I believe not," he answered. "Nature spared me that indignity or denied me that happiness as you may look at it.
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