‘What is left to me?’ he asked.
His father’s voice spoke inwardly in answer, apart from his will, outside his will, as it had spoken from the first.
‘Duty!’ said the voice. ‘Bid the fire-flowers blossom in the wasted spaces of your own soul.’
His tears gripped him at the throat with art almost intolerable anguish, and with such a passion as no man can experience twice in life he renounced his own despair.
THE END BILLING AND SONS, LTD., PRINTERS, GUILDFORD