But it showed how young she was that she did not see the half-tender, half-ironical look that he flung upon her. In his heart he was wondering whether he would tell her, but something, perhaps her very absence of all self-consciousness, held him back—
He went on, softly, almost as though he were talking to himself. “And then, these last weeks it all got on my nerves to such an extent that I was nearly off my head. I wanted to kill Traill. I might have killed him if I had been a stronger man. I felt that it was all so unfair that he should have everything—youth, health, prospects, popularity—everything—and I nothing. I had never been a likable man, perhaps, but there seemed to be no reason. I had it in me, I thought, to do things—”
He stopped for a moment and looked at the sea; its gray was being shot with blue and gold and the banks of mist on the horizon were rolling back like gates before the sun.
“—And then, yesterday afternoon, when Moy-Thompson was making his speech, I seemed to see suddenly that it was the place—the system—that I had been up against all this time, and not any one person—and suddenly I burst out, scarcely knowing, you know—and I thought I'd done rather a big thing. I thought the other men would be glad that I had led the way. I thought Moy-Thompson would be furious and frightened, but the other men were amused and Moy-Thompson laughed—and suddenly everything cleared and I saw what this place had made of me. They say that it takes a man all a lifetime to know himself—well, I 've got that knowledge early. I know what I am.”
She suddenly put out her hand and he caught it fiercely in his. “You 're going to have a fine life,” he said; “there are so many people that you will do good to—but you have been everything to one useless creature.”
“I shall always be proud to be your friend.” Curiously, in the growing light, with that strange, uncouth figure holding her hand, she felt more strongly moved than she had ever been before—yes, even Archie Traill's wooing had not touched her as this did.
“I'm too young to know all that it has meant to you,” at last she said brokenly, “but I shall never, all my life through, forget you. I shall want, please, always to hear—”
“To hear?” His lips twisted into a strange smile. “Ah, you must n 't want that.”
“Why not? What are you going to do—now?”
“To do?” He was still strangely smiling. “What is there for me to do? I am too old to struggle outside for a living. I have no means and I am fit for nothing but schoolmastering—”