Mannering, and that, thanks to his
(Heatherlegh's) friendly offices, the story of my affliction had traveled
through the length and breadth of Simla, where I was on all sides much pitied.
"And that's rather more than you deserve," he concluded, pleasantly, "though
the Lord knows you've been going through a pretty severe mill. Never mind;
we'll cure you yet, you perverse phenomenon."
I declined firmly to be cured. "You've been much too good to me already, old
man," said I; "but I don't think I need trouble you further."
In my heart I knew that nothing Heatherlegh could do would lighten the burden
that had been laid upon me.
With that knowledge came also a sense of hopeless, impotent rebellion against
the unreasonableness of it all. There were scores of men no better than I
whose punishments had at least been reserved for another world; and I felt
that it was bitterly, cruelly unfair that I alone should have been singled out
for so hideous a fate. This mood would in time give place to another where it
seemed that the 'rickshaw and I were the only realities in a world of shadows;
that Kitty was a ghost; that Mannering, Heatherlegh, and all the other men and
women I knew were all ghosts; and the great, grey hills themselves but vain
shadows devised to torture me.
Pages:
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198