Excerpt from First the Blade: A Comedy of Growth But Justin - less easy to conceive, eh? Yet, knowing Laura as little even as we do, he should be obvious - prose to her verse: she, the glove for his hand: the red and white halves of an apple. Laura implies Justin as day implies night, winter - summer, sunshine - rain. We should be justified in leaving them, at the end, wooed and wedded and a', in a very rainbow of happiness. And yet - I doubt.
They fit too well, complement each other too perfectly. I foresee complications. Suppose - only suppose - that, nicely adjusted as their ages are with seven years between them in the love season, there should yet be a hitch? She, as girls do, may have grown in a day, an hour, in the swiftness of a handshake, into a woman: have entered into that heritage of knowledge, and instinct that is more than knowledge, that Lilith willed her, and Helen perfected, and Rachel and Monica, Grizel and Mother Goose, have all passed on: while he? Suppose that he does not grow up at all I only say, suppose I have not as yet an idea of how the story develops. We are still groping for our hero - don't even know if he were short or tall.
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