They suit one
another exactly. Why, he's splendid! The other day when I'd been a perfect
beast--losing my temper like a boy of ten--you should have heard the way he
took it. One day, Bobby, you'll see how splendid he is."
Bobby said no more.
Peter went on again: "No, it's my mother-in-law's done the damage. You're
right, the thing to do is to get Clare alone and have it right out with
her. We'll clear the mists away."
Bobby said: "You know Peter, both Alice and I would do anything in the
world to make you happy--anything."
Peter gripped his hand.
"I know you would. If I could forget young Stephen," he caught his
breath--"Bobby, I see him everywhere, all the time. I lie awake hours at
night thinking about him. I see him in my sleep, see him sometimes
grown-up--splendid, famous.... Sometimes I think he comes back. I can see
him, lying on his back and looking up at the ceiling, and I say to myself,
'Now if you don't move he'll stay there' ... and then I move and he's gone.
And I haven't any one to talk about him to. I never know whether Clare
thinks of him or not. He was so splendid, Bobby, so strong. And he loved me
in the most extraordinary way. We'd have been tremendous pals if he'd
lived.
"I could have stood anything if I'd been able to see him growing up, had
him to care about.... I'm so lonely, Bobby--and if I don't make Clare come
back to me, now that the book's failed, I--I--I'll go back to Scaw House
and just drink myself to the devil there with my old father; he'll be glad
enough.
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