And meanwhile, in the tenements, still groping and testing, feeling her
way, keeping close watch on her great brood, their wakening desires, their
widening curiosities, Deborah was bringing them, children, mothers and
fathers too, together through the one big hope of brighter and more ample
lives for everybody's children. Step by step this hope was spread out into
the surrounding swamps and jungles of blind driven lives, to find
surprising treasures there deep buried under dirt and din, locked in the
common heart of mankind--old songs and fables, hopes and dreams and visions
of immortal light, handed down from father to son, nurtured, guarded,
breathed upon and clothed anew by countless generations, innumerable
millions of simple men and women blindly struggling toward the sun. Over
the door of one of the schools, were these words carved in the stone:
"Humanity is still a child. Our parents are all people who have lived upon
the earth--our children, all who are to come. And the dawn at last is
breaking. The great day has just begun."
This spirit of triumphal life poured deep into Roger's house. It was as
though his daughter, in these last months which she had left for undivided
service, were strengthening her faith in it all and pledging her
devotion--as communing with herself she felt the crisis drawing near.
CHAPTER XL
There came an interruption. One night when Deborah was out and Roger sat in
his study alone, the maid came in highly flustered and said,
"Mr.
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