A fantasy novel by George MacDonald

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A FAERIE ROMANCE.                    103
house; he had not had time to open the closet door. " Will he ever look in ? " I said to myself. " Must his shadow find him some day ? " But I could not answer my own questions.
We travelled together for two days, and I began to love him. It was plain that he suspected my story in some degree; and I saw him once or twice looking curiously and anxiously at my attendant gloom, which all this time had remained very obsequiously behind me; but I offered no expla­nation, and he asked none. Shame at my neglect of his warning, and a horror which shrunk from even alluding to its cause, kept me silent; till, on the evening of the second day, some noble words from my companion roused all my heart; and I was at the point of falling on his neck, and telling him the whole story; seeking, if not for helpful advice, for of that I was hopeless, yet for the comfort of sympathy—when round slid the shadow and inwrapt my friend.; and I could not trust him. The glory of his brow vanished; the light of his eye grew cold; and I held my peace. The next morn­ing we parted.
But the most dreadful thing of all was, that I now began to feel something like satisfaction in
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