9/47 In those few moments of intense feeling, in the presence of death, it was given to Paul to tread across the threshold of the mystery of his birth. Here lay stiff and cold no base clay such as that of which Polly Kegworthy had been formed. It had been the tenement of a spirit beautiful and swift. No matter to what things he himself had been born--he had put that foolishness behind him--at all events his dream bad come partly true. His father had been one of the great ones, one of the conquerors, one of the high princes of men. |