And once across, he had only to
change his name and write for money to be forwarded to that name, and
turn to work until the thing was covered up and forgotten. He rose to
his feet in his full strength again, and intensely and agreeably
excited with the danger, and possibly fatal termination, of his
adventure, and then there fell upon him, with the suddenness of a
blow, the remembrance of the little child lying on the dirty bedding
in the room above.
"I can't do it," he muttered fiercely; "I can't do it," he cried, as
if he argued with some other presence. "There's a rope around me neck,
and the chances are all against me; it's every man for himself and no
favor." He threw his arms out before him as if to push the thought
away from him and ran his fingers through his hair and over his face.
All of his old self rose in him and mocked him for a weak fool, and
showed him just how great his personal danger was, and so he turned
and dashed forward on a run, not only to the street, but as if to
escape from the other self that held him back. He was still without
his shoes, and in his bare feet, and he stopped as he noticed this and
turned to go up stairs for them, and then he pictured to himself the
baby lying as he had left her, weakly unconscious and with dark rims
around her eyes, and he asked himself excitedly what he would do, if,
on his return, she should wake and smile and reach out her hands to
him.
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