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Kipling, Rudyard, 1865-1936

"From Mine Own People"

My only excuse
for you is that you are so young.' "That's all," he said, returning the paper
to be dropped into the fire.
"What was in the letter?" asked Mrs. Beeton, when Alf returned.
"I don't know. I think it was a circular or a tract about not whistlin' at
everything when you're young."
"I must have stepped on something when I was alive and walking about and it has
bounced up and hit me. God help it, whatever it is--unless it was all a joke.
But I don't know any one who"d take the trouble to play a joke on me--Love and
loyalty for nothing. It sounds tempting enough. I wonder whether I have lost
anything really?"
Dick considered for a long time but could not remember when or how he had put
himself in the way of winning these trifles at a woman's hands.
Still, the letter as touching on matters that he preferred not to think about
stung him into a fit of frenzy that lasted for a day and night. When his heart
was so full of despair that it would hold no more, body and soul together
seemed to be dropping without check through the darkness.
Then came fear of darkness and desperate attempts to reach the light again. But
there was no light to be reached. When that agony had left him sweating and
breathless, the downward flight would recommence till the gathering torture of
it spurred him into another fight as hopeless as the first.


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