{"id":"01KG8AN123CR1EW5VM1RDX435X","cid":"bafkreidszkelxqzxzbruxwbk4ieyazimndb7eqhegc4c4ca7kkldui6wcu","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":14051,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:52.924Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 2","source_file":"01KG89J1JSYKSGCE149MH9HF6A","start_line":13984,"text":"him and her--and wed with the second lady; which he accordingly did;\r\nwhile, through his whole subsequent life, delicacy and honor toward his\r\nthus wedded wife, forbade that by explaining to his first love how it\r\nwas with him in this matter, he should tranquilize her heart; and,\r\ntherefore, in her complete ignorance, she believed that he was willfully\r\nand heartlessly false to her; and so came to a lunatic's death on his\r\naccount.\r\n\r\nThis strange story of real life, Pierre knew to be also familiar to\r\nLucy; for they had several times conversed upon it; and the first love\r\nof the demented youth had been a school-mate of Lucy's, and Lucy had\r\ncounted upon standing up with her as bridesmaid. Now, the passing idea\r\nwas self-suggested to Pierre, whether into Lucy's mind some such conceit\r\nas this, concerning himself and Isabel, might not possibly have stolen.\r\nBut then again such a supposition proved wholly untenable in the end;\r\nfor it did by no means suffice for a satisfactory solution of the\r\nabsolute motive of the extraordinary proposed step of Lucy; nor indeed\r\nby any ordinary law of propriety, did it at all seem to justify that\r\nstep. Therefore, he know not what to think; hardly what to dream.\r\nWonders, nay, downright miracles and no less were sung about Love; but\r\nhere was the absolute miracle itself--the out-acted miracle. For\r\ninfallibly certain he inwardly felt, that whatever her strange conceit;\r\nwhatever her enigmatical delusion; whatever her most secret and\r\ninexplicable motive; still Lucy in her own virgin heart remained\r\ntransparently immaculate, without shadow of flaw or vein. Nevertheless,\r\nwhat inconceivable conduct this was in her, which she in her letter so\r\npassionately proposed! Altogether, it amazed him; it confounded him.\r\n\r\nNow, that vague, fearful feeling stole into him, that, rail as all\r\natheists will, there is a mysterious, inscrutable divineness in the\r\nworld--a God--a Being positively present everywhere;--nay, He is now in\r\nthis room; the air did part when I here sat down. I displaced the Spirit\r\nthen--condensed it a little off from this spot. He looked\r\napprehensively around him; he felt overjoyed at the sight of the\r\nhumanness of Delly.\r\n\r\nWhile he was thus plunged into this mysteriousness, a knock was heard at\r\nthe door.\r\n\r\nDelly hesitatingly rose--\"Shall I let any one in, sir?--I think it is\r\nMr. Millthorpe's knock.\"\r\n\r\n\"Go and see--go and see\"--said Pierre, vacantly.\r\n\r\nThe moment the door was opened, Millthorpe--for it was he--catching a\r\nglimpse of Pierre's seated form, brushed past Delly, and loudly entered\r\nthe room.\r\n\r\n\"Ha, ha! well, my boy, how comes on the Inferno? That is it you are\r\nwriting; one is apt to look black while writing Infernoes; you always\r\nloved Dante. My lad! I have finished ten metaphysical treatises; argued\r\nfive cases before the court; attended all our society's meetings;\r\naccompanied our great Professor, Monsieur Volvoon, the lecturer, through\r\nhis circuit in the philosophical saloons, sharing all the honors of his\r\nillustrious triumph; and by the way, let me tell you, Volvoon secretly\r\ngives me even more credit than is my due; for 'pon my soul, I did not\r\nhelp write more than one half, at most, of his Lectures;\r\nedited--anonymously, though--a learned, scientific work on 'The Precise\r\nCause of the Modifications in the Undulatory Motion in Waves,' a\r\nposthumous work of a poor fellow--fine lad he was, too--a friend of\r\nmine. Yes, here I have been doing all this, while you still are\r\nhammering away at that one poor plaguy Inferno! Oh, there's a secret in\r\ndispatching these things; patience! patience! you will yet learn the\r\nsecret. Time! time! I can't teach it to you, my boy, but Time can: I\r\nwish I could, but I can't.\"\r\n\r\nThere was another knock at the door.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 2"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AKWWX2BGWJCE64KZJVE77","peer_type":"section","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1JSYKSGCE149MH9HF6A","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AN11YXB45RRGXN501D5MZ","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG8AN120DVDBQNB2N5PW3T6Z","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:56.387Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:49:33.022Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}