|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 49
"God help us all!" he muttered.
"Well," said Lloyd expectantly.
Bennett drew a deep breath, his hands falling helplessly at his sides.
In a way he appeared suddenly bowed; the great frame of bone and sinew
seemed in some strange, indefinable manner to shrink, to stagger under
the sudden assumption of an intolerable burden--a burden that was never
to be lifted.
Even then, however, Bennett still believed in the wisdom of his course,
still believed himself to be right. But, right or wrong, he now must go
forward. Was it fate, was it doom, was it destiny?
Bennett's entire life had been spent in the working out of great ideas
in the face of great obstacles; continually he had been called upon to
overcome enormous difficulties with enormous strength. For long periods
of time he had been isolated from civilisation, had been face to face
with the simple, crude forces of an elemental world--forces that were to
be combated and overthrown by means no less simple and crude than
themselves. He had lost the faculty, possessed, no doubt, by smaller
minds, of dealing with complicated situations. To resort to expedients,
to make concessions, was all beyond him. For him a thing was absolutely
right or absolutely wrong, and between the two there was no gradation.
For so long a time had he looked at the larger, broader situations of
life that his mental vision had become all deformed and confused. He saw
things invariably magnified beyond all proportion, or else dwarfed to a
littleness that was beneath consideration. Normal vision was denied him.
It was as though he studied the world through one or the other ends of a
telescope, and when, as at present, his emotions were aroused, matters
were only made the worse. The idea that Ferriss might recover, though
Lloyd should leave him at this moment, hardly presented itself to his
mind. He was convinced that if Lloyd went away Ferriss would die; Lloyd
had said as much herself. The hope that Lloyd might, after all, nurse
him through his sickness without danger to herself was so remote that he
did not consider it for one instant. If Lloyd remained she, like the
other nurse, would contract the disease and die.
These were the half-way measures Bennett did not understand, the
expedients he could no longer see. It was either Lloyd or Ferriss. He
must choose between them.
Bennett went to the door of the room, closed it and leaned against it.
"No," he said.
Lloyd was stricken speechless. For the instant she shrank before him as
if from a murderer. Bennett now knew precisely the terrible danger in
which he left the man who was his dearest friend. Would he actually
consent to his death? It was almost beyond belief, and for the moment
Lloyd herself quailed before him. Her first thoughts were not of
herself, but of Ferriss. If he was Bennett's friend he was her friend
too. At that very moment he might be dying for want of her care. She was
fast becoming desperate. For the moment she could put all thought of
herself and of her own dignity in the background.
"What is it you want?" she cried. "Is it my humiliation you ask? Well,
then, you have it. It is as hard for me to ask favours as it is for you.
I am as proud as you, but I entreat you, you hear me, as humbly as I
can, to let me go. What do you want more than that? Oh, can't you
understand? While we talk here, while you keep me here, he may be dying.
Is it a time for arguments, is it a time for misunderstandings, is it a
time to think of ourselves, of our own lives, our own little affairs?"
She clasped her hands. "Will you please--can I, can I say more than
that; will you please let me go?"
"No."
With a great effort Lloyd tried to regain her self-control. She paused a
moment, then:
"Listen!" she said. "You say that you love me; that I am more to you
than even Mr. Ferriss, your truest friend. I do not wish to think of
myself at such a time as this, but supposing that you should make
me--that I should consent to leave my patient. Think of me then,
afterward. Can I go back there to the house, the house that I built? Can
I face the women of my profession? What would they think of me? What
would my friends think of me--I who have held my head so high? You will
ruin my life. I should have to give up my profession. Oh, can't you see
in what position you would place me?" Suddenly the tears sprang to her
eyes. "No!" she cried vehemently. "No, no, no, I will not, I will not be
disgraced!"
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|