And we'd better be beginning and setting our minds
to work on it. 'Tis for us to do--the minds of us. And what's the mind
of us but the Mind that made us? Simple and straight enough it is when
once you begin to think it out. The spirit of you sees clearer than we
do, that's all," he said to me. "When your mother brought you into the
world she was listening to one outside calling to her, and it opened the
way for you."
At night Hector MacNairn and his mother and I sat on the terrace under
stars which seemed listening things, and we three drew nearer to one
another, and nearer and nearer.
"When the poor mother stumbled into the train that day," was one of the
things Hector told me, "I was thinking of The Fear and of my own mother.
You looked so slight and small as you sat in your corner that I thought
at first you were almost a child. Then a far look in your eyes made me
begin to watch you. You were so sorry for the poor woman that you could
not look away from her, and something in your face touched and puzzled
me. You leaned forward suddenly and put out your hand protectingly as
she stepped down on to the platform.
"That night when you spoke quite naturally of the child, never doubting
that I had seen it, I suddenly began to suspect. Because of The
Fear"--he hesitated--"I had been reading and thinking many things new to
me.
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