"You can bet Severn won't need it, anyhow."
"Very well, then, if we fail, we fail. But that's no reason against
trying, is it?"
"_I'm_ not going to try.... I'm sorry, but I mean it."
"All right then. I'll try on my own."
"Really--I'm sorry--but----"
He smiled. "I don't mind a bit," he answered. "Besides, it may be easier
for me than for you. You see, I haven't got your limitations. I don't
care about good taste, or what's 'done' in such matters. I just do what
I feel I _must_ do."
That rather stung me. I said that to me, at any rate, it was perfectly
obvious that he was thinking of Helen. Not that there was anything
unworthy in that; but it came oddly from one who had not long before
been boasting that he had put all that side of his life away from him
and didn't want to be even reminded of it. "If you have put it away from
you," I said, "why don't you keep it away from you? Why are you so keen
to plunge back into the midst of it on the slightest excuse?"
Once again the mention of Helen's name had made him less calm. He told
me eagerly that he _had_ put it all away from him, but that wouldn't and
oughtn't to stop him from helping friends he had known in the past. He
said, with eyes burning sharply: "I tell you--in case you're thinking
what isn't true--I tell you--I haven't any affection--_that_ sort of
affection--for her.... Do you believe me?"
"I believe you're speaking sincerely."
He ignored the innuendo. "I'm not thinking of Helen alone," he went on.
"Or of Severn.... In a way, they're old enough to do what they like,
whatever it is. But ... I'll tell you something about myself--years ago.
In those days--just before I came out here--I wanted Helen--you
understand?--I _wanted_ her. And I'd have done anything to get her, but
for--one thing.... Of course I'm not defending myself--there ought to
have been a hundred reasons to stop me, but in fact there was only that
one.... It would have been caddish and ungrateful to Severn, but _that_
wasn't the reason. And it wasn't--just morality.... It was ... it was ...
_this_ ... I felt I could put up with Severn's reproaches and the
world's reproaches ... I could stand everything except--except the
thought of June--June growing up and wondering why her mother had left
home, and then--some day--guessing or being told or finding out--the
reason.... I couldn't stand _that_...." He made an effort to gain
completer control of himself, and then, only half-succeeding,
continued: "I gave up what _I_ wanted for _her_ sake, and now--after
that--I'm damned if I'll see another man destroy it all! He _shan't_!
You say I can do nothing! You don't know what I can do. Neither do I.
But I know what I _can't_ do--I can't stand by and see things happening
as they are happening I tell you I can't--I _can't_--and I _won't_!"
The longest speech, I think, he had ever made in his life, and he was
pale and trembling after it. He broke off sharply and stared round at
the swing-doors; and no wonder, for at that moment Severn was entering,
and with him, lovely to the eye, was this other woman....