He made the universe on those lines. "And now," said Thames, (for we must still preserve the name,) "you will no longer defer my happiness. They are things faint and slight in themselves, as physical facts, but they are like the detonator of a bomb: they let loose the explosive. At times he was brilliant and masterful, talked round and over every one, and would have been domineering if he had not been extraordinarily kindly; at times he was almost monosyllabic, and defeated Miss Garvice’s most skilful attempts to draw him out. What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. ‘And that object confirms me in the belief that it is not I who will shortly meet my maker. To-morrow they will know the truth.
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