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Arcadia In Avernus
by
“Yes.”
The woman walked over to a bookcase, and, drawing out a volume, turned the pages absently. Without reading a word, she came back and looked the man squarely in the face.
“Will denying yourself help the world to evolve?”
“I think so.”
“How?”
“My determination makes me a positive force. It is my Karma for good, that makes my child stronger to do things.”
“But you have no child,”–swiftly.
Their eyes met again without faltering.
“I shall have–sometime.”
Silence fell upon them.
“Where were you a century ago?” digressed the woman.
“I wasn’t born.”
“Where will your child be a hundred years from now?”
“Dead likewise, probably; but the force for good, the Karma of the life, will be passed on and remain in the world.”
Unconsciously they both rose to their feet.
“Was man always on the earth?” she asked.
The question was answered almost before spoken.
“No.”
“Will he always be here?”
“Science says ‘no.'”
The woman came a step forward until they almost touched.
“What then becomes of your life of denial?” she challenged.
“You make it hard for me,” said the man, simply.
“But am I not right?” She came toward him passionately. “I come near you, and you start.” She laid her hand on his. “I touch you, and your eyes grow warm. Both our hearts beat more quickly. Look at the sunshine! It’s brighter when we’re so close together. What of life? It’s soon gone–and then? What of convention that says ‘no’? It’s but a farce that gives the same thing we ask–at the price of a few words of mummery. Our strongest instincts of nature call for each other. Why shouldn’t we obey them when we wish?” She hesitated, and her voice became tender. “We would be very happy together. Won’t you come?”
The man broke away almost roughly.
“Don’t you know,” he demanded, “it’s madness for us to be talking like this? We’ll be taking it seriously, and then–“
The woman made a swift gesture of protest.
“Don’t. Let’s be honest–with each other, at least. I’m tired of pretending to be other than I am. Why did you say ‘being true to my husband’? You know it’s mockery. Is it being true to live with a man I hate because man’s law demands it, rather than true to you whom Nature’s law sanctions? Don’t speak to me of society’s right and wrong! I despise it. There is no other tribunal than Nature, and Nature says ‘Come.'”
The man sat down slowly and dropped his head wearily into his hands.
“I say again, I cannot. I respect you too much. We’re intoxicated now being together. In an hour, after we’re separate–“
She broke in on him passionately.
“Do you think a woman says what I have said on the spur of the moment? Do you think I merely happened to see you to-day, merely happened to say what I’ve said? You know better. This has been coming for months. I fought it hard at first; with convention, with your idea of right and wrong. Now I laugh at them both. Life is life, and short, and beyond is darkness. Think what atoms we are; and we struggle so hard. Our life that seems to us so short–and so long! A thousand, perhaps ten thousand such, end to end, and we have the life of a world. And what is that? A cycle! A thing self-created, self-destructive: then of human life–nothingness. Oh, it’s humorous! Our life, a ten thousandth part of that nothingness; and so full of tiny–great struggles and worries!” She was silent a moment, her throat trembling, a multitude of expressions shifting swiftly on her face.
“Do you believe in God?” she questioned suddenly.
“I hardly know. There must be–“
“Don’t you suppose, then, He’s laughing at us now?” She hesitated again and then went on, almost unconsciously. “I had a dream a few nights ago.” The voice was low and very soft. “It seemed I was alone in a desert place, and partial darkness was about me. I was conscious only of listening and wondering, for out of the shadow came sounds of human suffering. I waited with my heart beating strangely. Gradually the voices grew louder, until I caught the meaning of occasional words and distinctly saw coming toward me the figure of a man and a woman bearing a great burden, a load so great that both together bent beneath the weight and sweat stood thick upon their brows. The edges of the burden were very sharp so that the hands of the man and the woman bled from the wounds and their shoulders were torn grievously where the load had shifted: those of the woman more than the man, for she bore more of the weight. I marvelled at the sight.