You know whom I mean. I saw her only yesterday,
and she asked me of you with such splendid disregard for what the
others standing by might think, and as though she dared me or them to
say or even imagine anything against you. You cannot keep away from us
both much longer. Surely not; you will come back and make us happy for
the rest of our lives."
The Goodwood Plunger turned his back to the lights so that the people
passing could not see his face, and tore the letter up slowly and
dropped it piece by piece over the balcony. "If I could," he
whispered; "if I could." The pain was a little worse than usual just
then, but it was no longer a question of inclination. He felt only
this desire to stop these thoughts and doubts and the physical tremor
that shook him. To rest and sleep, that was what he must have, and
peace. There was no peace at home or anywhere else while this thing
lasted. He could not see why they worried him in this way. It was
quite impossible. He felt much more sorry for them than for himself,
but only because they could not understand. He was quite sure that if
they could feel what he suffered they would help him, even to end it.
He had been standing for some time with his back to the light, but now
he turned to face it and to take up his watch again.
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