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The Weavers: a tale of England and Egypt of fifty years ago - Volume 1 by Gilbert Parker
page 19 of 47 (40%)

She gave him his cue, for he had of purpose held his peace till all had
been said; and he had come to say some things which had been churning in
his mind too long. He caught the faint cool sarcasm in her tone, and
smiled unconsciously at her last words. She, at least, must have reasons
for her faith in him, must have grounds for his defence in painful days
to come; for painful they must be, whether he stayed to do their will, or
went into the fighting world where Quakers were few and life composite of
things they never knew in Hamley.

He got to his feet and clasped his hands behind his back. After an
instant he broke silence.

"All those things of which I am accused, I did; and for them is asked
repentance. Before that day on which I did these things was there
complaint, or cause for it? Was my life evil? Did I think in secret
that which might not be done openly? Well, some things I did secretly.
Ye shall hear of them. I read where I might, and after my taste, many
plays, and found in them beauty and the soul of deep things. Tales I
have read, but a few, and John Milton, and Chaucer, and Bacon, and
Montaigne, and Arab poets also, whose books my uncle sent me. Was this
sin in me?"

"It drove to a day of shame for thee," said the shrill Elder.

He took no heed, but continued: "When I was a child I listened to the
lark as it rose from the meadow; and I hid myself in the hedge that,
unseen, I might hear it sing; and at night I waited till I could hear the
nightingale. I have heard the river singing, and the music of the trees.
At first I thought that this must be sin, since ye condemn the human
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