"I knew you would come to me in the end," I heard him whisper.
"It was all too big for me to understand at first," she murmured, "and
for a long time I was frightened--"
"But not now!" he cried louder; "you don't feel afraid now of--of
anything that's in me--"
"I fear nothing," she cried, "nothing, nothing!"
I led her outside again. She looked steadily into my face with eyes
shining and her whole being transformed. In some intuitive way,
surviving probably from the somnambulism, she knew or guessed as much as
I knew.
"You must talk to-morrow with John Silence," I said gently, leading her
towards her own tent. "He understands everything."
I left her at the door, and as I went back softly to take up my place of
sentry again with the Canadian, I saw the first streaks of dawn lighting
up the far rim of the sea behind the distant islands.
And, as though to emphasise the eternal closeness of comedy to tragedy,
two small details rose out of the scene and impressed me so vividly that
I remember them to this very day.
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