“Certainly, he’s got go,” said Gudrun. “In fact I’ve never seen a man that showed signs of so much. The unfortunate thing is, where does his go go to, what becomes of it?”
“Oh I know,” said Ursula. “It goes in applying the latest appliances!”
“Exactly,” said Gudrun.
“You know he shot his brother?” said Ursula.
“Shot his brother?” cried Gudrun, frowning as if in disapprobation.
“Didn’t you know? Oh yes!—I thought you knew. He and his brother were playing together with a gun. He told his brother to look down the gun, and it was loaded, and blew the top of his head off. Isn’t it a horrible story?”
“How fearful!” cried Gudrun. “But it is long ago?”
“Oh yes, they were quite boys,” said Ursula. “I think it is one of the most horrible stories I know.”
“And he of course did not know that the gun was loaded?”
“Yes. You see it was an old thing that had been lying in the stable for years. Nobody dreamed it would ever go off, and of course, no one imagined it was loaded. But isn’t it dreadful, that it should happen?”