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Wells, H. G. (Herbert George), 1866-1946

"Secret Places of the Heart"

It explained them all.
I know the evidence and the judgment against him were strictly just and
true, because they were exactly in character.... And that, you see, was
my man. That was the lover I had chosen. That was the man to whom I had
given myself with both hands."
Her soft unhurrying voice halted for a time, and then resumed in the
same even tones of careful statement. "I wasn't disgusted, not even with
myself. About him I was chiefly sorry, intensely sorry, because I had
made him come out of a life that suited and protected him, to the
war. About myself, I was stunned and perplexed. I had the clearest
realization that what you and I have been calling the bright little
personal life had broken off short and was spoilt and over and done
with. I felt as though it was my body they had shot. And there I was,
with fifty years of life left in me and nothing particular to do with
them."
"That was just the prelude to life, said Sir Richmond.
"It didn't seem so at the time. I felt I had to got hold of something or
go to pieces. I couldn't turn to religion. I had no religion. And Duty?
What is Duty? I set myself to that. I had a kind of revelation one
night. 'Either I find out what all this world is about, I said, or I
perish.' I have lost myself and I must forget myself by getting hold of
something bigger than myself.


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