“He was ensconced in Norah Shadox-Brown’s sitting-room in front of a roaring fire. The curtains were drawn against the steely grey afternoon. Under a soft lamp the Irish linen table-cloth was covered with a golden strewing of crumbs from the Madeira cake. Marcus put his empty tea-cup down among the streaks of cranberry jelly upon his white plate in the way in which Norah had often asked him not to. He said, “But it’s his seriousness that matters, his passion.” Norah leaned to put Marcus’s cup ...back on to his saucer. She said, “Nothing you’ve told me persuades me he’s serious. He’s either mad or else amusing himself at your expense.” “Oh, you don’t understand!” Marcus sneezed. “There, I told you you were developing a cold.” “I’m not developing a cold.” Marcus had done his best to explain to Norah the experience, he was tempted to think of it as the mystical experience, of his meeting with Carel. In explaining Carel’s arguments he had presented the scene, he was aware not quite accurately, as a sober discussion between the two brothers in which he had played his own part.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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