ating compassion that thus had birth in me was
far from being able to defeat the earlier, earthlier emotion. The two, I
recognized, were in a sort of conflict; and I, regarding it, assumed
that the conflict would never end; that for years, as Allan and Theresa
reckoned time, I should be obliged to withhold myself from the great
spaces and linger suffering, grudging, shamed, where they lingered.

* * * * *

It can never have been explained, I suppose, what, to devitalized
perception such as mine, the contact of mortal beings with each other
appears to be. Once to have exercised this sense-freed perception is to
realize that the gift of prophecy, although the subject of such frequent
marvel, is no longer mysterious. The merest glance of our sensitive and
uncloyed vision can detect the strength of the relation between two
beings, and therefore instantly calculate its duration. If you see a
heavy weight suspended from a slender string, you can know, without any
wizardry, that in a few moments the string will snap; well, such, if you
admit the analogy, is prophecy, is foreknowledge. And it was thus that I
saw it with Theresa and Allan. For it was perfectly visible to me that
they would very little longer have the strength to preserve, near each
other, the denuded impersonal relation that they, and that I, behind
them, insisted on; and that they would have to separate. It was my
sister, perhaps the more sensitive, who first realized this. It had now
become possible for me to observe them almost constantly, the effort
necessary to visit them had so greatly diminished; so that I watched
her, poor, anguished girl, prepare to leave him. I saw each reluctant
movement that she made. I saw her eyes, worn from self-searching; I
heard her step grown timid from inexplicable fears; I entered her very
heart and heard its pitiful, wild beating. And still I did not
interfere.

For at this time I had a wonderful, almost demoniacal sense of disposing
of matters to suit my own selfish will. At any moment I could have
checked their miseries, could have restored happiness and peace. Yet it
gave me, and I could weep to admit it, a monstrous joy to know that
Theresa thought she was leaving Allan of her own free intention, when it
was I who was contriving, arranging, insisting.... And yet she
wretchedly felt my presence near her; I am certain of that.

A few days before the time of her intended departure my sister