Amber! Amber!
That's it! She says you understand what her name is from a bell and
from amber. She is laughing and waving a lace handkerchief at me
because she is pleased. She says I have made you know who it is."
This was the strangest moment of Eugene's life, because, while it
lasted, he believed that Isabel Amberson, who was dead, had found
means to speak to him. Though within ten minutes he doubted it, he
believed it then.
His elbows pressed hard upon the table, and, his head between his
hands, he leaned forward, staring at the commonplace figure in the
easy-chair. "What does she wish to say to me?"
"She is happy because you know her. No--she is troubled. Oh--a great
trouble! Something she wants to tell you. She wants so much to tell
you. She wants Lopa to tell you. This is a great trouble. She says
--oh, yes, she wants you to be--to be kind! That's what she says.
That's it. To be kind."
"Does she--"
"She wants you to be kind," said the voice. "She nods when I tell you
this. Yes; it must be right.
Pages:
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513