The Romance of His Life, and Other Romances — John Shaqi
The Romance of His Life, and Other RomancesCholmondeley, Mary
General
The Romance of His Life, and Other Romances
Cholmondeley, Mary
Great Britain -- Social life and customs -- 20th century -- Fiction; Short stories
"And as I sat there I felt in my inmost soul a faint thrill, a vibration
that gradually flooded my whole being, and then slowly ebbed away. And
something within me, something passionate surrendered myself to it, and
was borne away upon it as by an outgoing tide. It ebbed farther and
farther. And I floated farther and farther away with it in a golden
mist. And in a wonderful place of peace I saw a young girl sitting alone
in the dawn. I could not see her face, but I recognised her. She was the
one woman in the world for me, my mate found at last. And I was consumed
in an agony of longing. And I ran to her, and fell on my knees at her
feet, and hid my face in her gown. And she bent over me, and raised me
in her arms and held my head against her breast. And she said, 'Do not
be distressed, I love you, and all is well.'
"And we spoke together in whispers, and my agitation died away. I did
not see her face, but I did not need to. I knew her as I had never known
anyone before. I had found her at last.
"I had never guessed, I had never dreamed, I had never read in any book
that anything could be so beautiful. It was beyond all words. It was
more wonderful than dawn at sea. I leaned my head against her and cried
for joy. And she soothed me as a mother soothes her child. But she was
crying too, crying for sheer joy. I felt her tears on my face. She
needed me as I needed her. That was the most wonderful of all, her need
of me. We had been drawn to each other from the ends of the earth, and
we were safe in each other's arms at last.
"And then gradually, imperceptibly, a change came. The same tide which
had brought me to her feet began to draw me away again, and sudden
terror seized me that I was going to lose her. I clung convulsively to
her, but my arms were no longer round her. We were apart, stretching out
our hands to each other. Her figure was growing dimmer and dimmer in a
golden mist. In an agony I cried to her. 'Where shall I find you? Tell
me how to reach you?' And she laughed, and her voice came serene and
reassuring. 'We shall meet. You are on your way to me. You will find me
on the high road.'
"And we were parted from each other, and I came slowly back over immense
distances and moving waveless tides of space; back to this room, and the
dawn coming up behind the tower of Westminster."
"You awoke in fact," I said.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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