"Never—and you were right not to," he added.
Humphrey rose.
"I'm your brother and your friend. I can't be different to what I am. I don't respect you—never did. But—well—a silly word most times, but I'll use it—I love you well enough. Why shouldn't I? You're my brother—all I've got left. I'm cut up about this. I wish I could lighten your load, and I'm willing to do it if 'tis in my power."
"You have. If you come to that wedding I shall die a happy man."
"That's nought. Ban't there anything deeper I can do—for you yourself and your peace of mind?"
Again Nathan struggled with his desires. But pride kept him silent. He could not tell the truth.
"No," he answered at last. "Nothing for me myself."
"Or for any other?"
The innkeeper became agitated.
"No, no. You've done a good day's work. No more for the present. I've not thrown up the sponge yet. Will you take a glass of the old sloe gin before you go?"