Chapter
4
The Choosing of JimAND THEN THERE CAME those ten weeks which were like a dream, and are so now to look back upon. I would weary you were I to tell you what passed between us but oh, how earnest and fateful and all-important it was at the time! Her waywardness; her ever-varying moods, now bright, now dark, like a meadow under drifting clouds; her causeless angers; her sudden repentances, each in turn filling me with joy or sorrow: these were my life, and all the rest was but emptiness. But ever deep down behind all my other feelings was a vague disquiet, a fear that I was like the man who set forth to lay hands upon the rainbow, and that the real Edie Calder, however near she might seem, was in truth for ever beyond my reach.
For she was so hard to understand, or, at least, she
