“And that strength was so much weakness, boy. Mine, weak as it is, has proved stronger far.”
Stratton looked at him wonderingly.
“Yes; how much agony you might have been spared, perhaps, if you had come to me. But I don’t know—I don’t know. You acted as you thought best; I only did the same, and, not knowing all your thoughts, I fear that I have erred.”
Stratton sat thinking for a few moments, and then, raising his eyes:
“I have told you all. It is your turn now.”
Brettison bowed his head.
“Yes,” he said, “it is better that I should speak and tell you.”
But he was silent for some time first, sitting back with the tips of his fingers joined, as if collecting his thoughts.
“You remember that morning—how I came to say good-bye?”
“Yes, of course.”