Moreover, none of the books
she read, from _Wuthering_ _Heights_ to _Man_ _and_ _Superman_, and the
plays of Ibsen, suggested from their analysis of love that what their
heroines felt was what she was feeling now. It seemed to her that her
sensations had no name.
She met Terence frequently. When they did not meet, he was apt to send a
note with a book or about a book, for he had not been able after all to
neglect that approach to intimacy. But sometimes he did not come or did
not write for several days at a time. Again when they met their meeting
might be one of inspiriting joy or of harassing despair. Over all their
partings hung the sense of interruption, leaving them both unsatisfied,
though ignorant that the other shared the feeling.
If Rachel was ignorant of her own feelings, she was even more completely
ignorant of his. At first he moved as a god; as she came to know him
better he was still the centre of light, but combined with this beauty
a wonderful power of making her daring and confident of herself. She
was conscious of emotions and powers which she had never suspected in
herself, and of a depth in the world hitherto unknown. When she thought
of their relationship she saw rather than reasoned, representing her
view of what Terence felt by a picture of him drawn across the room to
stand by her side. This passage across the room amounted to a physical
sensation, but what it meant she did not know.
Pages:
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327