That was the true miracle of the gift; without actual experience, to imagine love and hate and greed and how they would react upon each other; and then, when these passions had served their temporary purpose, to cast them aside for new imaginings. He opened it—just off-hand, and then when he saw what it was he hit at the table and sent his soup spoon flying and splashing on to the tablecloth. I hear the sound of his horse's feet in the yard. Nothing at all. . It was my destiny to have her. "We're all damaged—we've all got broken pates," cried a dozen voices.
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