That is all. It is an open secret, and perfectly safe. Like heroism, it is inimitable in cheap materials. The lights went out. Fred and Archie left the box as the second act came on.
Artistic growth is, more than it is anything else, a refining of the sense of truthfulness.
That afternoon nothing new came to Thea Kronborg, no enlightenment, no inspiration. She merely came into full possession of things she had been refining and perfecting for so long. Her inhibitions chanced to be fewer than usual, and, within herself, she entered into the inheritance that she herself had laid up, into the fullness of the faith she had kept before she knew its name or its meaning. But this afternoon the closed roads opened, the gates dropped. What she had so often tried to reach, lay under her hand.