But the
face,--it was ghastly, livid as the face of a leper: it was
spectral,--blanched and dried with the white flames of his exalted
vigils. Ah, black eyes, well may you shine in terrible triumph! The old
idolatry this man demanded of me would not be repelled. I gazed upon my
visitor as upon a phantom from another sphere, and knew no reckoning of
time. His magnetism was upon me; I could only crouch into myself--and
wait. At length the silence was broken.
"Charles Clifton, teacher of the people, listen that you may be taught!
For the last time I have come down into your world of passion and sense.
The impulses with which you vainly strive and wrestle are behind me.
Alone, alone, I have risen from the abysmal depths of personality. I
have struggled fiercely. I have also conquered."
The livid face showed no change. It suddenly came to me, that, by some
voluntary disfigurement of his exquisite beauty of feature, this man had
cut away the lusts for pleasure, fame, and influence.
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