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Thurston, Katherine Cecil, 1875-1911

"The Masquerader"


When depression falls upon a man of usually even temperament
it descends with a double weight. The mercurial nature has a
hundred counterbalancing devices to rid itself of gloom--a
sudden lifting of spirit, a memory of other moods lived
through, other blacknesses dispersed by time; but the man of
level nature has none of these. Depression, when it comes, is
indeed depression; no phase of mind to be superseded by another
phase, but a slackening of all the chords of life.
It was through such a depression as this that he labored
during three weeks, while no summons and no hint of
remembrance came from Chilcote. His position was peculiarly
difficult. He found no action in the present, and towards the
future he dared not trust himself to look. He had slipped the
old moorings that familiarity had rendered endurable; but
having slipped them, he had found no substitute. Such was his
case on the last night of the three weeks, and such his frame
of mind as he crossed Fleet Street from Clifford's Inn to
Middle Temple Lane.


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