Dear, how good she was to me! I remember once
how she came all the way, after she had left us, to see me on my way
through town. She just met me at a railway station, and she had bought a
little book which she thought might amuse me, and a bag of oranges--she
remembered that I used to like oranges. I recollect at the time thinking
it was all very touching and devoted; but I was with a friend of mine,
and had not time to say much. I can see her old face, smiling, with
tears in her eyes, as we went off. I gave the book and the oranges away,
I remember, to a child at the next station. It is curious how it all
comes back to me now; I never saw her again, and I wish I had behaved
better. I should like to see her again, and to tell her that I really
cared! I wonder if that is possible? But there is really so much to do
here and to enjoy; and there is no one to tell me where to go, so that I
am puzzled. What is one to do?"
"I think that if one desires a thing enough here, Charmides," I said,
"one is in a fair way to obtain it. Never mind! a door will be opened.
But one has got to care, I suppose; it is not enough to look upon it as
a pretty effect, which one would just like to put in its place with
other effects--'Open, sesame'--do you remember? There is a charm at
which all doors fly open, even here!"
"I will talk to you more about this," said Charmides, "when I have had
time to arrange my thoughts a little.
Pages:
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104