“If I never made paper again,” he assured her, “it would be less—far less—of a grief and disaster to me than if I was shut off from taking my part in the great struggle for Labour.”
“You’ll do both; you’ll do both. It’s only a passing shock. You’ll forget all about it, I hope, and be at work again as well as ever in a few days.”
“I don’t think so, Medora. As far as that goes, I believe it’s serious. I haven’t had time to collect my thoughts yet, and it’s no good worrying till I’ve seen the doctor; but I’m none too hopeful. If the stroke once goes, it wants a lot of careful nursing to get it back, and often enough it’s gone for good.”
“Only with men who drink, and that kind of thing. Such a one as you—a saint—and strong in body and mind, and healthy every way—of course it will come back.”
“We must be frank with ourselves,” he said. “We must tell the doctor the truth. My stroke was shocked away. And sometimes what’s shocked away can only be shocked back.”
“That’s an idea,” said Medora.
She was always quick to fasten on ideas and his words made her thoughtful for a moment. She registered his statement for future consideration, then flowed on again. She was cheerful, sympathetic, and full of consolation. Indeed, presently, as Kellock grew grateful, she began to think she might be overdoing the part. For it was, if not wholly, at least in large measure an impersonation now. She was acting again, and she played with a purpose and exceeding concern to touch the right note, but avoid overemphasis upon it. Kellock appeared to be in two minds, and he looked at her and held her hand.
“I want to say something,” he declared presently; “but I won’t. I’ll keep it off, because I’m not very strong for the moment, and the spoken word once spoken remains. This is a great crisis all round. I hope good will come out of trouble, as it often does. We’ve had enough to shake us cruelly to-day—both of us—and I won’t add to it. And what’s in my thoughts may look different to-morrow, so I’ll keep it there.”
“Don’t think any more about anything,” she begged him. “Just let your mind rest, or talk about the lecture. And don’t you think, whatever happens, and whatever is in store for me, that it is going to lessen your great future. Perhaps it was the strangeness of your ideas that made me shrink from them.”
He began to discuss his ruling passion. She kept him easily to that.