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Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips), 1866-1946

"The Great Secret"

The old outlook, the
old ideas had been torn up by the root. The things which had seemed to be
of life itself only a few hours ago seemed now to have lapsed into the
insignificance of trifles. I thought of myself and my old life with the
tolerance of one who watches a child at play. Sport and all its kindred
delights--the whole glorification of the physical life--I viewed as a
Stock Exchange man might view the gambling for marbles of his youth. It
was incredible that I had ever even fancied myself content. My brain was
still in a whirl, but it seemed to me that I was already conscious of new
powers. My thoughts travelled more quickly, I felt a greater alertness of
brain, a swifter rush of ideas. But it seemed to me, also, that something
had gone, that never again would I find my way lie through the rose
gardens of life.
I must have dozed for a time upon the sofa, and was awakened by a soft
tapping upon the low, old-fashioned windows, which opened upon the
terrace. I sprang up, and, for a moment, it seemed to me that I must be
dreaming.


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