You have often said that you could never write a book. You have writtenthis one just as surely as Beatrice wrote the Vita Nuova for Dante.Until I talked with you I did not know that our lives are the pathwayfor God's feet; I had not realized that Trinity of body, brain andspirit; and it had never come to me before how, for each other's sake,we must set a censor, very strong and austere, upon our secret thoughts.I have learnt these things from you; the gold of your thoughts haspassed through the crucible of my experience to make a book. Perhaps alittle of the gold has been left clinging to the crucible—and for thatI have to thank you, my dear.
Margaret Leonora Eyles.
Bexhill-on-Sea, 1st February, 1920.
"Man comes into life to seek and find his sufficient beauty, toserve it, to win and increase it, to fight for it; to face anythingand dare anything for it, counting death as nothing so long as thedying eyes still turn to it. And fear and dulness and indolence andappetite—which, indeed, are no more than fear's three crippled brotherswho make ambushes and creep by night—are against him, to delay him, tohold him off, to hamper and beguile and kill him in that quest."
H. G. Wells ("The History of Mr. Polly").
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVII
CHAPTER XVIII
CHAPTER XIX
CHAPTER XX
CHAPTER XXI
CHAPTER XXII
CHAPTER XXIII
CHAPTER XXIV
CHAPTER XXV
CHAPTER XXVI
CHAPTER XXVII
CHAPTER XXVIII
CHAPTER XXIX
CHAPTER XXX
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