“Dear Gogo,” I said, “I am so thankful to you, and so sorry; and I
would not have said or done what I did, if I had known it would
disturb you so. Won’t you let me get up?”
He scrambled to his feet--ah, fie upon the unmeant cruelty of the
word!--and stood knotting his great hands, while his breast heaved
stormily.
“Well, I think I was mad,” he roared suddenly. “Strike me! Stamp on
me! Bind me to a pillar, and let the eternal remorse batten on my
vitals! Whatever the spark at my tail, it started me up like a rocket:
and behold me at the end, a blackened and empty case!”