Leilah looked up at him.
“Gulian, no, not that. The end of the beginning, if you like. Hereafter we will be beginning anew. Hereafter——”
She paused. The word had been evocative. Its repetition showed her that which she had not yet had time to consider; the decencies of life, the decencies, too, of death, the funeral, the widow’s weeds, the delay which the world exacts; new hostages to joy, real though impermanent.
She told him of them.
From the church next door the organ pealed, and as they then remade their plans—those plans which mortals think they make, and which always are unmade unless intended for them—a ray of sunshine entered; the organ pealed louder, the beauty of the melody hushed their voices, and for a moment, to the appoggiatura of Stradella, on that shaft of light, Leilah’s thoughts, ascending, mounted into realms where all things broken are made complete, and where are found again things vanished.
Transcriber’s Note:
A list of Chapters has been provided for the navigational convenience of the reader.
Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.
Archaic and variable spelling is preserved.