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IV. An Hour of Bliss and Many Hours of Sadness

           Inreturningtolabourinthissequesteredspothehadanticipatedanescapefromthechafingofsocialnecessities;yetbeholdtheywereherealso.Morethaneverhelongedtobeinsomeworldwherepersonalambitionwasnottheonlyrecognizedformofprogress—such,perhaps,asmighthavebeenthecaseatsometimeorotherinthesilveryglobethenshininguponhim.Hiseyetravelledoverthelengthandbreadthofthatdistantcountry—overtheBayofRainbows,thesombreSeaofCrises,theOceanofStorms,theLakeofDreams,thevastWalledPlains,andthewondrousRingMountains—tillhealmostfelthimselftobevoyagingbodilythroughitswildscenes,standingonitshollowhills,traversingitsdeserts,descendingitsvalesandoldseabottoms,ormountingtotheedgesofitscraters.

           Whilehewatchedthefar-removedlandscapeatawnystaingrewintobeingonthelowerverge—theeclipsehadbegun.Thismarkedapreconcertedmoment—fortheremotecelestialphenomenonhadbeenpressedintosublunaryserviceasalover’ssignal.Yeobright’smindflewbacktoearthatthesight;hearose,shookhimselfandlistened.Minuteafterminutepassedby,perhapstenminutespassed,andtheshadowonthemoonperceptiblywidened.Heheardarustlingonhislefthand,acloakedfigurewithanupturnedfaceappearedatthebaseoftheBarrow,andClymdescended.Inamomentthefigurewasinhisarms,andhislipsuponhers.

           “MyEustacia!”

           “Clym,dearest!”

           Suchasituationhadlessthanthreemonthsbroughtforth.

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