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52 LILITH |
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' A book,' he said louder, is a door in, and therefore a door out.—I see old Sir Up'ard,' he ivent on, closing his eyes, ' and my heart swells with love to him :—what world is he in ?'
' The world of your heart!' I replied ; ' —that is, the idea of him is there.'
' There is one world then at least on which your hall-door does not open ?'
' I grant you so much; but the things in that world are not things to have and to hold.'
' Think a little farther,' he rejoined : ' did anything ever become yours, except by getting into that world ?— The thought is beyond you, however, at present !—I" tell you there are more worlds, and more doors to them, than you will think of in many years ! '
He rose, left the library, crossed the hall, and went straight up to the garret, familiar evidently with every turn. I followed, studying his back. His hair hung down long and dark, straight and glossy. His coat was wide and reached to his heels. His shoes seemed too large for him.
In the garret a light came through at the edges of the great roofing slabs, and showed us parts where was no flooring, and we must step from joist to joist: in the middle of one of these spaces rose a partition, with a door: through it I followed Mr. Haven into a small, obscure chamber, whose top contracted as it rose, and went slanting through the roof.
' That is the door I spoke of,' he said, pointing to an oblong mirror that stood on the floor and leaned against the wall. I loent in front of it, and saw our figures dimly reflected in its dusty face. There was something about it that made me uneasy. It looked |
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