Paula felt singularly blessed the next morning wondering if ever there existed another woman into whose life-channel poured such strange and torrential tributaries2. The current of her mind was broadening and accelerating. She was being prepared for some big expression, and there is true happiness in the thought. Reifferscheid, since her pilgrimage to Staten Island, had become a fixture4 of delight. Selma Cross had borne her down on mighty5 pinions6 to the lower revelations of the City, but had winged her back again on a breeze of pure romance. Madame Nestor had parted the curtains, which shut from the world's eye, hell unqualified, yet her own life was a miracle of penitence7. Not the least of her inspirations was this mild, brave woman of the solitudes8. Then, there was the commanding mystery of Bellingham, emerging in her mind now from the chicaneries9 of the past ten days; rising, indeed, to his own valuation—that of a New Voice. Finally, above and before all, was the stirring figure of her Ideal—her splendid secret source of optimism—Charter, less a man than a soul in her new dreams—a name to which she affixed10, "The Man-Who-Must-Be-Somewhere."
Just once, the thought came to Paula that Bellingham had designed a meeting such as took place in the Park to soften11 her aversion and clear from her mind any idea of his abnormality. She could not hold this suspicion long. Attributing evil strategies to another was not easy for Paula. The simpler way now was to give him every benefit, even to regard the recent dreadful adventures with an intangible devil—as an outburst of her neglected feminine prerogatives13, coincident with the stress of her rather lonely intellectual life. As for Madame Nestor, might she not have reached a more acute stage of a similar derangement14? Paula was not unacquainted with the great potentialities of fine physical health, nor did she miss the fact that Mother Nature seldom permits a woman of normal development to reach the fourth cycle of her years, without reckoning with the ancient reason of her being.
She now regarded early events connected with Bellingham as one might look back upon the beginning of a run of fever.... Could he be one of the New Voices?
Paula loved to think that Woman was to be the chief resource of the Lifting Age. Everywhere among men she saw the furious hunger for spiritual refreshment15. Words, which she heard by mere16 chance from passers-by, appalled17 her. It was so tragically18 clear to her how the life led by city men starves their better natures—that there were times when she could hardly realize they did not see it. She wanted someone to make the whole world understand—that just as there are hidden spaces between the atoms of steel which made radioactivity possible, so in the human body there is a permeating19 space, in which the soul of man is built day by day from every thought and act; and when the worn-out physical envelope falls away—there it stands, a record to endure.... She wanted to believe that it was the office of woman to help man make this record beautiful. Just as the old Anglo-Saxon for "lady" means "giver of bread," so she loved to think that the spiritual loaf was in the keeping of woman also.
Paula could not meditate20 without ecstasy21 upon the thought that a great spiritual tide was rising, soon to overflow22 every race and nation. The lifting of man from greedy senses to the pure happiness of brotherhood23, was her most intimate and lovely hope. Back of everything, this lived and lit her mind. There were transcendent moments—she hardly dared to describe or interpret them—when cosmic consciousness swept into her brain. Swift was the visitation, nor did it leave any memorable24 impression, but she divined that such lofty moments, different only in degree, were responsible for the great utterances25 in books that are deathless. The shield was torn from her soul, leaving it naked to every world-anguish. The woman, Paula Linster, became an accumulation of all suffering—desert thirsts, untold27 loves, birth and death parturitions, blind cruelties of battle, the carnal lust28 of Famine (that soft-treading spectre), welted flesh under the screaming lash29, moaning from the World's Night everywhere—until the impassioned spirit within rushed forth30 to the very horizon's rim3 to shelter an agonizing31 people from an angry God. Such is the genius of race-motherhood—the ineffable32 spirit of mediation33 between Father and child.
These are the wilderness-wrestlings of the great-souled—the Gethsemanes. Out of the dream, would appear the actual spectacle of the City—human beings preying35 one upon the other, the wolf still frothing in man's breast—and then would crush down upon her with shattering pain the realization36 of her own hopeless ineffectuality. To a mind thus stricken and desolated37 often, premonitions of madness come at last—madness, the black brother of genius. There is safety alone in a body strong and undefiled to receive again the expanded spirit. From how many a lustrous38 youth—tarrying too long by the fetid margins39 of sense—has the glory winged away, never to return to a creature fallen into hairy despoliation40.
Paula had returned from down-town about noon. Reifferscheid, who had a weakness for Herman Melville, and annually41 endeavored to spur the American people into a more adequate appreciation42 of the old sea-lion, had ordered her to rest her eyes for a few days in Moby Dick. With the fat, old fine-print novel under her arm, Paula let herself into her own apartment and instantly encountered the occultist's power. She sank to the floor and covered her face in the pillows of the couch. In the past twenty-four hours she had come to believe that the enemy had been put away forever, yet here in her own room she was stricken, and so swiftly.... Though she did not realize it at once, many of the thoughts which gradually surged into her mind were not her own. She came to see Bellingham as other women saw him—as a great and wise doctor. Her own conception battled against this, but vainly, vaguely43. It was as if he held the balance of power in her consciousness. Without attempting to link them together, the processes of her mind quickly will be set into words.
Her first thought, before the tightening44 of Bellingham's control in her brain, was to rush into his presence and fiercely arraign45 him for the treachery he had committed. After blaming Madame Nestor and deforming46 her own faculties47 to clear him from evil, the devilishness of the present visitation overwhelmed. And how infinitely48 more black and formidable now was his magic—after the utterances in the Park! This was her last real stand.... A cry of hopelessness escaped her lips, for the numbness49 was already about her eyes, and creeping back like a pestilence50 along the open highways of her mind.
"Come to me. The way is open. I am alone. I am near.... Come to me, Paula Linster, of plentiful51 treasures.... Do you not see the open way—how near I am? Oh, come—now—come to me now!"
Again and again the little sentences fell upon her mind, until its surface stirred against reiteration52, as one, thoroughly53 understanding, resents repeated explanations.... It was right now for her to go. She had been rebellious54 and headstrong to conjure55 such evils about the name of a famous physician. The world called him famous. Only she and Madame Nestor had stood apart, clutching fast to their ideas of his deviltry. He had taken the trouble to call her to him—to prove that he was good. The degradation56 which she had felt at the first moment of his summons—was all from her own perversity57.... Clearly she saw the street below, Cathedral Way; a turn north, then across the Plaza58 to the brown ornate entrance of The Maidstone.... There was no formality about the going. Her hat and coat had not been removed.... She was in the hall; the elevator halted at her floor while the man pushed a letter and some papers under the door of the Selma Cross apartment.... In the street, she turned across the Plaza from Cathedral Way to The Maidstone. The real Paula Linster marshalled a hundred terrible protests, but her voice was muffled59, her strength ineffectual as Josephine's beating with white hands against the Emperor's iron door. Real volition60 was locked in the pitiless will of the physician, to whom she hastened as one hoping to be saved.
She inquired huskily of the man at the hotel-desk.
"The Doctor is waiting on the parlor-floor—in F," was the answer.
Paula stepped from the elevator, and was directed to the last door on the left.... The sense of her need, of her illness, hurried her forward through the long hall. Sometimes she seemed burdened with the body of a woman, very tired and helpless, but quite obedient.... The figure "F" on a silver shield filled her eyes. The door was ajar. Her entrance was not unlike that of a lioness goaded61 with irons through a barred passage into an arena62. She did not open the door wider, but slipped through sideways, gathering63 her dress closely about her.... Bellingham was there. His face was white, rigid64 from long concentration; yet he smiled and his arms were opened to her.... The point here was that he so marvelously understood. His attitude to her seemed that of a physician of the soul. She could not feel the fighting of the real woman.... Dazed and broken for the moment, she encountered the soothing65 magnetism66 of his hands.
"How long I have waited!" he quietly exclaimed. "Hours, and it was bitter waiting—but you are a wreath for my waiting—how grateful you are to my weariness!... Paula Linster, Paula Linster—what deserts of burning sunshine I have crossed to find you—what dark jungles I have searched for such fragrance67!"
His arms were light upon her, his voice low and lulling68. He dared not yet touch his lips to her hair—though they were dry and twisted with his awful thirst. Craft and patience altogether feline69 was in the art with which he wound and wove about her mind thoughts of his own, designed to ignite the spark of responsive desire.... And how softly he fanned—(an incautious blast would have left him in darkness altogether)—until it caught.... Well, indeed, he knew the cunning of the yet unbroken seals; and better still did he know the outraged70 forces hovering71 all about her, ready to defeat him for the slightest error—and leave him to burn in his own fires.
"This is peace," he whispered with indescribable repression72. "How soft a resting-place—and yet how strong!... Out of the past I have come for you. Do you remember the rock in the desert on which you sat and waited long ago? Your eyes were weary when I came—weary from the blazing light of noon and the endless waning73 of that long day. On a great rock in the desert you sat—until I came, until I came. Then you laughed because I shut the feverish74 sun-glow from your strained eyes.... Remember, I came in the skin of a lion and shut the sunset from your aching eyes—my shoulders darkening the west—and we were alone—and the night came on...."
Clearly was transferred to hers, the picture in his own brain. One of the ancient and mystic films of memory seemed brought after ages to the light—the reddening sands, the city far behind, from which she had fled to meet her hero, deep in the desert—the glow of sunset on his shoulders and in his hair, tawny75 as the lion's skin he wore.... The heart quickened within her; the savage76 ardor77 of that long-ago woman grew hot in her breast. Strong as a lion he was, this youth of the Sun, and fleet the night fell to cover them. She ate the dried grapes he gave her, drank deep from his skin of wine, and laughed with him in the swift descending78 night.... She felt his arms now, her face was upraised, her eyelids79 tensely shut. Downward the blood rushed, leaving her lips icy cold. She felt the muscles of his arms in her tightening fingers, and her breast rose against him. This was no Twentieth Century magician who thralled her now, but a glorious hero out of the desert sunset;—and the woman within her was as one consuming with ecstasy from a lover's last visit....
And now Bellingham changed the color and surface of his advances. It was his thought to make such a marvellous sally, that when he retired80 and the mistress once again commanded her own citadel81, she would perceive the field of his activities strewn, not with corpses82, but with garlands, and in their fragrance she must yearn83 for the giant to come yet again. The thing he now endeavored to do was beyond an ordinary human conception for devilishness; and yet, that it was not a momentary84 impulse, but a well considered plan, was proven by the trend of his talk of the day before.... The flaw in his structure was his apparent forgetting that the woman in his arms breathing so ardently85, in her own mind was clinging to a youth out of the sunset—a youth in the skin of a lion.
"Wisdom has been given to my eyes," Bellingham resumed with surpassing gentleness. "For years a conception of wonderful womanhood has lived and brightened in my mind, bringing with it a promise that in due time, such a woman would be shown to me. The woman, the promise and the miracle of its later meaning, I perceived at last were not for my happiness, but for the world's awful need. You are the fruits of my wonderful vision—you—Paula Linster. You are the quest of my long and weary searching!"
His utterance26 of her name strangely disturbed her night-rapture of the desert. It was as if she heard afar-off—the calling of her people.
"On the night you entered the Hall," he said, and his face bent86 closer, "I felt the sense of victory, before these physical eyes found you. My thoughts roved over a world, brightened by a new hope, fairer for your presence. And then, I saw your fine white brow, the ignited magic of your hair and eyes, your frail87 exquisite88 shoulders.... It seemed as though the lights perished from the place—when you left."
The word "magic" was a sudden spark around which the thoughts of the woman now groped.... She had lost her desert lover, passion was drained from her, and there was a weight of great trouble pressing down ... "Magic"—she struggled for its meaning.... She was sitting upon a rock again, but not in the desert—rather in a place of cooled sunlight, where there were turf roads and grand, old trees—a huge figure approaching with a powerful swinging stride—yesterday, Bellingham, the Park—the Talk!... Paula lifted her shoulders, felt the binding89 arms around them and heard the words uttered now in the meridian90 of human passion:
"Listen, Paula Linster, you have been chosen for the most exalted91 task ever offered to living woman. The Great Soul is not yet in the world, and He must come soon!... It is you who have inspired this—you, of trained will; a mind of stirring evolution, every thought so essentially92 feminine; you of virgin93 body and a soul lit with stars! You are brave. The burden is easy to one of your courage, and I should keep you free from the world—free from the burns and the whips of this thinking animal, the world. All that I have won from the world, her mysteries, her enchantments94, I shall give you, all that is big and brave and wise in song and philosophy and nature, I shall bring to your feet, as a hunter with trophies95 to his beloved—all that a man, wise and tender, can think and express to quicken the splendor96 of fertility——"
Paula was now fully97 conscious—her self restored to her. The Yesterday and the To-day rose before her mind in startling parallel. Her primary dread12 was that she might lose control again before Bellingham was put away. The super-devilishness of his plan—hiding a blasphemy98 in the white robe of a spiritual consecration—had changed him in her sight to a ravening99 beast. The thing which he believed would cause her eagerly to bestow100 upon him the riches of her threefold life had lifted her farther out of his power that moment, than even she realized. Bellingham had over-reached. She was filled with inner nausea101.... The idea of escape, the thought of crippling the magician's power over her forever—in the stress of this, she grew cold.... She was nearest the door. It stood ajar, as when she had entered.
"Meditation102—in the place I have prepared," he was whispering, "meditation and the poetic103 life, rarest of fruits, purest of white garments—cleansed with sunlight and starlight, you and I, Paula Linster,—the sources of creation which have been revealed to me—for you! Wonderful woman—all the vitalities of heaven shall play upon you! We shall bring the new god into the world——"
"You father a son of mine," she said, in the doorway105. "You—are dead—the man's soul is dead within you—you whited sepulchre!"
His face altered like a white wall which an earthquake disorders106 at the base. White rock turned to blown paper; the man-mask rubbed out; Havoc107 featured upon an erect108 thing, with arms pitifully outstretched.
Paula, alone in the long hall, ran to the marble stairs, hurried down and into the street—swiftly to her house. There, every thread of clothing she had worn was gathered into a pile for burning. Then she bathed and her strength returned.
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1
parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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tributaries
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| n. 支流 | |
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rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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fixture
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| n.固定设备；预定日期；比赛时间；定期存款 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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pinions
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| v.抓住[捆住]（双臂）( pinion的第三人称单数 ) | |
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penitence
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| n.忏悔，赎罪；悔过 | |
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solitudes
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| n.独居( solitude的名词复数 )；孤独；荒僻的地方；人迹罕至的地方 | |
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chicaneries
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| n.耍花招哄骗别人（尤指于法律事务中）( chicanery的名词复数 )；不诚实的行为；欺骗 | |
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10
affixed
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| adj.[医]附着的，附着的v.附加( affix的过去式和过去分词 )；粘贴；加以；盖（印章） | |
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soften
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| v.(使)变柔软；(使)变柔和 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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13
prerogatives
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| n.权利( prerogative的名词复数 )；特权；大主教法庭；总督委任组成的法庭 | |
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derangement
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| n.精神错乱 | |
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refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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appalled
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| v.使惊骇，使充满恐惧( appall的过去式和过去分词)adj.惊骇的；丧胆的 | |
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tragically
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| adv. 悲剧地，悲惨地 | |
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permeating
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| 弥漫( permeate的现在分词 )； 遍布； 渗入； 渗透 | |
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meditate
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| v.想，考虑，（尤指宗教上的）沉思，冥想 | |
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ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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overflow
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| v.(使)外溢，(使)溢出；溢出，流出，漫出 | |
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brotherhood
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| n.兄弟般的关系，手中情谊 | |
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memorable
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| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
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utterances
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| n.发声( utterance的名词复数 )；说话方式；语调；言论 | |
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utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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untold
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| adj.数不清的，无数的 | |
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lust
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| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
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lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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agonizing
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| adj.痛苦难忍的；使人苦恼的v.使极度痛苦；折磨(agonize的ing形式) | |
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ineffable
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| adj.无法表达的，不可言喻的 | |
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mediation
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| n.调解 | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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preying
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| v.掠食( prey的现在分词 )；掠食；折磨；（人）靠欺诈为生 | |
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realization
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| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
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desolated
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| adj.荒凉的，荒废的 | |
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lustrous
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| adj.有光泽的；光辉的 | |
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margins
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| 边( margin的名词复数 )； 利润； 页边空白； 差数 | |
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despoliation
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| n.掠夺 | |
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annually
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| adv.一年一次，每年 | |
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appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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43
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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44
tightening
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| 上紧，固定，紧密 | |
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45
arraign
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| v.提讯；控告 | |
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46
deforming
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| 使变形，使残废，丑化( deform的现在分词 ) | |
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47
faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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48
infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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numbness
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| n.无感觉，麻木，惊呆 | |
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50
pestilence
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| n.瘟疫 | |
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51
plentiful
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| adj.富裕的，丰富的 | |
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52
reiteration
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| n. 重覆, 反覆, 重说 | |
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53
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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54
rebellious
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| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
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55
conjure
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| v.恳求，祈求；变魔术，变戏法 | |
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degradation
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| n.降级；低落；退化；陵削；降解；衰变 | |
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perversity
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| n.任性；刚愎自用 | |
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58
plaza
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| n.广场，市场 | |
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muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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volition
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| n.意志；决意 | |
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goaded
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| v.刺激( goad的过去式和过去分词 )；激励；（用尖棒）驱赶；驱使（或怂恿、刺激）某人 | |
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62
arena
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| n.竞技场，运动场所；竞争场所，舞台 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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64
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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magnetism
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| n.磁性，吸引力，磁学 | |
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fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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lulling
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| vt.使镇静，使安静（lull的现在分词形式） | |
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feline
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| adj.猫科的 | |
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outraged
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| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
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hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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repression
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| n.镇压，抑制，抑压 | |
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waning
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| adj.（月亮）渐亏的，逐渐减弱或变小的n.月亏v.衰落( wane的现在分词 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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tawny
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| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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ardor
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| n.热情，狂热 | |
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descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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79
eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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citadel
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| n.城堡；堡垒；避难所 | |
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82
corpses
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| n.死尸，尸体( corpse的名词复数 ) | |
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yearn
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| v.想念；怀念；渴望 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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ardently
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| adv.热心地，热烈地 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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binding
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| 有约束力的，有效的，应遵守的 | |
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meridian
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| adj.子午线的；全盛期的 | |
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exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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essentially
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| adv.本质上，实质上，基本上 | |
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virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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enchantments
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| n.魅力( enchantment的名词复数 )；迷人之处；施魔法；着魔 | |
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trophies
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| n.（为竞赛获胜者颁发的）奖品( trophy的名词复数 )；奖杯；（尤指狩猎或战争中获得的）纪念品；（用于比赛或赛跑名称）奖 | |
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splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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blasphemy
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| n.亵渎，渎神 | |
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ravening
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| a.贪婪而饥饿的 | |
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bestow
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| v.把…赠与，把…授予；花费 | |
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101
nausea
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| n.作呕，恶心；极端的憎恶(或厌恶) | |
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meditation
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| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
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103
poetic
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| adj.富有诗意的，有诗人气质的，善于抒情的 | |
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104
loathing
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| n.厌恶，憎恨v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的现在分词)；极不喜欢 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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106
disorders
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| n.混乱( disorder的名词复数 )；凌乱；骚乱；（身心、机能）失调 | |
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107
havoc
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| n.大破坏，浩劫，大混乱，大杂乱 | |
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108
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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