Summary

The Chariot of the Flesh

How can you be so cruel?"
"Oh, Lord Vancome!" said Vera, "I wish you would not talk like that; you know I do not wish to be unkind, but you must remember I am engaged, and it would be very wrong to let any one kiss me."
"Wrong! You dear innocent thing!" he answered; "how small is your knowledge of the world! Do you think girls never let any but one man kiss them? And what harm would it do? Do you fancy a kiss leaves any mark behind that would betray us? No, the only mark will be upon my life, a mark of brightness in the gloom!"
Source: Gutenberg

The Chariot of the Flesh

As Vera looked upon her dead lover, the spirit of life, which is the spirit of true love, was for the first time born in her heart. The Angel of Death was to her, as to so many, the winged messenger of God bearing the germ of eternity. As some fair blossom, differing not in appearance from others, that have already been made fruitful, will for some reason remain long barren, so many natures linger here, fair it may be in form, but missing the pollen of fruition. To some it is borne by the fairy butterfly of love; to others only by the death's-head moth of suffering.
Source: Gutenberg

The Chariot of the Flesh

You belong to another, and I hate him. Oh! we are friends--only friends--and love is no earthly passion, but a communion of souls--What a farce--what folly! Would a soul feel as I do? it is a mockery--there is no soul anywhere--I doubt if there is a God. We are apes, dancing for the amusement of an audience of fiends! Oh! Vera, what have I said? That there is no spirit in you--it is impossible--I am the fiend who would drive the pure angel of your spirit into hell!'
"Thus did the wretched man ramble on until, exhausted by the excitement of remorse, he lay down and fell into a troubled sleep.
Source: Gutenberg

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