“Of the way you did feel?
Well, it was very simple
You said you had had from your earliest time, as the deepest thing within you,
the sense of being kept for something rare and strange,
possibly prodigious and terrible,
that was sooner or later to happen to you,
that you had in your bones the foreboding and the conviction of,
and that would perhaps overwhelm you.
”“Do you call that very simple?” John Marcher asked.
She thought a moment.
“It was perhaps because I seemed, as you spoke, to understand it.
”“You do understand it?” he eagerly asked.
Again she kept her kind eyes on him.
“You still have the belief?
”“Oh!” he exclaimed helplessly.
There was too much to say.
“Whatever it’s to be,” she clearly made out, “it hasn’t yet come.”