Then he suddenly turned on himself.
"And I might have done something," he said; "but I've wasted most of my life."
"Wasted it?" she echoed in a wondering question.
"I don't know why I talk about it to-night, still less why I talk about it to you. I talked about it last to—to my wife."
"Ah! But your daughter?"
"Daisy!" he laughed tenderly. "Poor little
Daisy! I don't bother her with it all." Then he added, "Really I've no business to bother you either, Miss Derosne. I break out sometimes. I'm afraid I'm not 'a silent, strong man.' Does it bore you?"
"You know—you know—" Alicia stammered.
"And now," he said, rising in his excitement, "even now, what have I? The place—the form—the name of power; and these creatures hold me back and hang on my flank and—I can do nothing." He sank back on the bench where she sat.
Alicia put her hand out and drew it back. Then she stretched it out again, and laid it on his arm.