"I'm so sorry for you."
Mrs. Clibborn thought that even poor Algy Turner, who had killed himself for love of her, had not been so desperately hit.
"It's very kind of you to listen to me," said James. "I have nobody to speak to, and sometimes I feel I shall go mad."
"You're such a nice boy, James. What a pity it is you didn't go into the cavalry!"
James scarcely heard; he stared at the floor, brooding sorrowfully.
"Fate is against me," he muttered.
"If things had only happened a little differently. Poor Reggie!"
Mrs. Clibborn was thinking that if she were a widow, she could never have resisted the unhappy young man's pleading.
James got up to go.
"It's no good," he said; "talking makes it no better. I must go on trying to crush it. And the worst of it is, I don't want to crush it; I love my love. Though it embitters my whole life, I would rather die than lose it. Good-bye, Mrs. Clibborn. Thank you for being so kind. You can't imagine what good it does me to receive a little sympathy."