"Helen!" he cried, and the intensity of his feelings made it impossible
for him to say more.
Yet, however strong the emotions which were aroused by this meeting,--
and for both of them the moment was one of keenest feeling,--they were
schooled to self-control, and after that first exclamation the sculptor
was outwardly calm as he went to greet his visitor. Even for those who
are not guided by principle, self-restraint comes as the result of
habit, and none of us in this age of the world assert the right of
emotion to vent itself in utterance. The Philoctetes of Sophocles might
shriek to high heaven, and Mars vent the anguish of his wounds in cries
and sobs, but we have changed all that. Even the muse of tragedy is
self-possessed in modern days; good breeding has conquered even the
fierce impulse of passion to find outlet in words.
Both Herman and Helen were alive to the danger of the situation, and
their meeting was one of perfect outward calm.
"Good morning," she said, "it seemed so natural to walk in, that I
should almost have done it if your card hadn't been on the door."
She held out her hand as she spoke.
"I cannot shake hands," he said, "I am at work, you see."
She answered by a little conventional laugh which might mean anything.
Both of them hesitated a moment, their real feeling being too deep for
it to be easy quickly to call to mind conventionalities of talk.
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