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Wharton, Edith, 1862-1937

"The Valley of Decision"

I was of course
aware of the inevitable result; but the servants of Truth have no choice
but to follow where she calls, and many have joyfully traversed stonier
places than I am likely to travel."
Nothing could exceed the respect with which Odo heard this simple
confession of faith. It was as though the speaker had unconsciously
convicted him of remissness, of cowardice even; so vain and windy his
theorising seemed, judged by the other's deliberate act! Yet placed as
he was, what could he do, how advance their common end, but by passively
waiting on events? At least, he reflected, he could perform the trivial
service of trying to better his friend's case; and this he eagerly
offered to attempt. The doctor thanked him, but without any great
appearance of emotion: Odo was struck by the change which had
transformed a heady and intemperate speaker into a model of philosophic
calm. The doctor, indeed, seemed far more concerned for the safety of
his library and his cabinet of minerals than for his own. "Happily,"
said he, "I am not a man of family, and can therefore sacrifice my
liberty with a clear conscience: a fact I am the more thankful for when
I recall the moral distress of our poor friend Vivaldi, when compelled
to desert his post rather than be separated from his daughter."
The name brought the colour to Odo's brow, and with an embarrassed air
he asked what news the doctor had of their friend.
"Alas," said the other, "the last was of his death, which happened two
years since in Pavia.


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