"It is often the greatest men who cling to
the old world--when the new is clamoring. But the new means to be heard
all the same."
Diana's color flashed.
"I would rather be in that old world with Mr. Ferrier than in the new
with Mr. Barton!"
"What is the use of talking of preferences? The world is what it is--and
will be what it will be. Barton is our master--Ferrier's and mine. The
point is to come to terms, and make the best of it."
"No!--the point is--to hold the gate!--and die on the threshold, if need
be."
They had come to a stile. Marsham had crossed it, and Diana mounted. Her
young form showed sharply against the west; he looked into her eyes,
divided between laughter and feeling; she gave him her hand. The man's
pulses leaped anew. He was naturally of a cool and self-possessed
temperament--the life of the brain much stronger in him than the life of
the senses. But at that moment he recognized--as perhaps, for the first
time, the night before--that Nature and youth had him at last in grip.
At the same time the remembrance of a walk over the same ground that he
had taken in the autumn With Alicia Drake flashed, unwelcomed, into his
mind.
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