He was standing between two worlds. He had had his great crisis, and his wounded soul rested for a moment ere he ventured out upon the highways again. He knew not how it was, but there had passed into him the dignity of sorrow and the joy of deliverance at the same time. He saw life’s responsibilities clearer, duties swam grandly before him. It was a large dream, in which, for the time, he was not conscious of those troubles which, yesterday, had clenched his hands and knotted his forehead. He had come a step higher in the way of life, and into his spirit had flowed a new and sobered power. His heart was sore, but his mind was lifted up. The fatal wrangle of the pumas there below, the sound of it, would be in his ears for ever, but he had come above it; the searching vigour of the sun entered into his bones. He knew that he was going back to England--to ample work and strong days, but he did not know that he was going alone. He did not know that Andree was gone forever; that she had found her true place: in his undying memory. So intent was he, that at first he did not see a boat making into the bay towards him. ETEXT EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS: Clever men are trying Down in her heart, loves to be mastered He had no instinct for vice in the name of amusement He was strong enough to admit ignorance I don’t wish to fit in; things must fit me Imagination is at the root of much that passes for love Live and let live is doing good Not to show surprise at anything Truth waits long, but whips hard What a nice mob you press fellows are--wholesale scavengers End of Project Gutenberg’s The Trespasser, Complete, by Gilbert Parker