Now at last it was possible to know
something real about this man's soul, now at last one could look into
the Secret Places of his Heart. Anubis and Thoth, the god with the ibis
head, were reading the heart as if it were a book, reading aloud from it
to the supreme judge.
Suddenly the doctor found himself in his own dreams. His anxiety to
plead for his friend had brought him in. He too had become a little
painted figure and he was bearing a book in his hand. He wanted to show
that the laws of the new world could not be the same as those of the
old, and the book he was bringing as evidence was his own Psychology of
a New Age.
The clear thought of that book broke up his dream by releasing a train
of waking troubles.... You have been six months on Chapter Ten; will it
ever be ready for Osiris?... will it ever be ready for print?...
Dream and waking thoughts were mingled like sky and cloud upon a windy
day in April. Suddenly he saw again that lonely figure on the narrow way
with darknesses above and darknesses below and darknesses on every hand.
But this time it was not Sir Richmond.... Who was it? Surely it was
Everyman. Everyman had to travel at last along that selfsame road,
leaving love, leaving every task and every desire. But was it
Everyman?.
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