A. V. Laider

by Sir Max Beerbohm

"After that, all a blur. It seems that I became very ill indeed, wasn't expected to live.

"However, I live."

There was a long silence. Laider did not look at me, nor I at him.
The fire was burning low, and he watched it.

At length he spoke:

"You despise me. Naturally. I despise myself."

"No, I don't despise you; but—"

"You blame me." I did not meet his gaze. "You blame me," he repeated.

"Yes."

"And there, if I may say so, you are a little unjust. It isn't my fault that I was born weak."

"But a man may conquer his weakness."