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[[start page]]this man's triumph as well as the inevitable tragedy of his life. Revealed was the tremendous will that nothing in life could conquer. There too, the despair of a tender love which the certainty of death put forever beyond the limit of his hope.
[[paragraph indentation]] Unconsciously Robert shook his head, murmuring, "Wolfe!" A strange thrill ran over him. Since boyhood he had admired this great figure in our history who at thirty-three, sick unto death, harried by failure, tortured and racked in body, had conceived and executed one of the outstanding military strategies of all time. Incurably ill, he had scaled the Heights of Abraham unaided and the next day led his men to glory. In the eyes was evident the will that controlled the shattered body, carrying him on after suffering terrible woulds, to die at last in the arms of his devoted men, leaving behind victory and a love he could never claim. Tragic, young! Robert murmured again, "Wolfe," listening intently to his own voice for the indescribable reaction that single word gave him. Mimi must see this remarkable figure.

[[paragraph indentation]] Mimi and Robert strolled among the throng. Although her clothes were impeccably stylish and her slender graceful figure faultless, people were attracted inevitably by her face as the perfect composition of a great painting draws attention irresistibly to the point of focus. It was a lovely face--the fair skin, gentle brown eyes, warm friendly lips, golden highlights in wavy dark hair--but it was not these. Rather it was a hyperphysical expression; "not of this world," some would say.
[[paragraph indentation]] Robert Henderson had a photograph of her in his study and often while listening to the radio, would sit gazing at it. He could never look at the picture during a Brahms or Beethoven symphony without feeling in some indescribable way that she became one with the music. And yet she was no plaster saint. She was intensely human but there was something intangible about her. Sometimes he felt that she would never be his after all. There seemed a prior claim, an obscure unaccountable thing he could not fathom.
[[paragraph indentation]] As they mingled with the people outside the Chateau, Mimi was strangely taciturn. Suddenly she pressed his arm gently with her fingertips. "Let's walk up along the ramparts," she said in her resonant contralto voice. "It must be beautiful up there tonight." [[end page]]