Shivering again before the omen, she trimmed the wick. She returned the book to Farwell by slipping it on the table next day. He took it without a word but returned at half past six as before.
'Well?' he asked with a faint smile.
'Thank you so much,' said Victoria. 'It's wonderful.'
'Wonderful indeed? Most commonplace, don't you think?'
'Oh, no,' said Victoria. 'It's extraordinary, it's like . . . like light.'
Farwell's eyes suddenly glittered.
'Ah,' he said dreamily, 'light! light in this, the outer darkness.'
Victoria looked at him, a question in her eyes.
'If only we could all see,' he went on. 'Then, as by a touch of a magician's wand, flowers would crowd out the thistles, the thistles that the asses eat and thank their God for. It is in our hands to make this the Happy Valley and we make it the Valley of the Shadow of Death.'
He paused for a moment. Victoria felt her pulse quicken.