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Hodgson, William Hope, 1877-1918

"The House on the Borderland"



_XXI_
THE DARK SUN
How long our souls lay in the arms of joy, I cannot say; but, all at
once, I was waked from my happiness, by a diminution of the pale and
gentle light that lit the Sea of Sleep. I turned toward the huge, white
orb, with a premonition of coming trouble. One side of it was curving
inward, as though a convex, black shadow were sweeping across it. My
memory went back. It was thus, that the darkness had come, before our
last parting. I turned toward my Love, inquiringly. With a sudden
knowledge of woe, I noticed how wan and unreal she had grown, even in
that brief space. Her voice seemed to come to me from a distance. The
touch of her hands was no more than the gentle pressure of a summer
wind, and grew less perceptible.
Already, quite half of the immense globe was shrouded. A feeling of
desperation seized me. Was she about to leave me? Would she have to go,
as she had gone before? I questioned her, anxiously, frightenedly; and
she, nestling closer, explained, in that strange, faraway voice, that it
was imperative she should leave me, before the Sun of Darkness--as she
termed it--blotted out the light.


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