Читать книгу White Magic. A Novel онлайн

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“Don’t tell me about it,” he interrupted gently, but with an expression in his straight, honest eyes that made her blush and hang her head. “I’m sorry for what you are when the black magician who rules beyond the bend takes possession of you. But what he does to you doesn’t change what the white magic makes of you here.”

Her eyes, her whole face lighted up. “The white magic,” she repeated softly. After a brief reverie she came back to the subject and went on, “I told you because I—I’m ashamed to be a fraud with you.... I wonder if you’re really as big and honest as you seem? Nobody is—out there. They’re mean and petty!—when you see through what they pretend to be—pretend even to themselves. I’m just as big a fraud as the rest. And I often convince myself I’m sweet and good and— If I could only—” There she stopped, leaving her wish unexpressed but easy to imagine.

“The way to keep the little things out is to fill one’s mind with the big things,” said he. “But you’re not to blame for being what your surroundings compel.”