"
"Isn't--isn't there anything I could do for you, then?
"Isn't--isn't there anything I could do for you, then?
Kipling - Poems
I did indeed," she protested.
"Very well. And now you've come and seen, and I'm--immensely grateful.
When you're better you shall go away and get something to eat. What sort
of a passage did you have coming over? "
Maisie was crying more subduedly, for the first time in her life glad
that she had something to lean against. Dick patted her on the shoulder
tenderly but clumsily, for he was not quite sure where her shoulder
might be.
She drew herself out of his arms at last and waited, trembling and most
unhappy. He had felt his way to the window to put the width of the room
between them, and to quiet a little the tumult in his heart.
"Are you better now? " he said.
"Yes, but--don't you hate me? "
"I hate you? My God! I?
"
"Isn't--isn't there anything I could do for you, then? I'll stay here
in England to do it, if you like. Perhaps I could come and see you
sometimes. "
"I think not, dear. It would be kindest not to see me any more, please.
I don't want to seem rude, but--don't you think--perhaps you had almost
better go now. "
He was conscious that he could not bear himself as a man if the strain
continued much longer.
"I don't deserve anything else. I'll go, Dick. Oh, I'm so miserable. "
"Nonsense. You've nothing to worry about; I'd tell you if you had. Wait
a moment, dear. I've got something to give you first. I meant it for
you ever since this little trouble began. It's my Melancolia; she was a
beauty when I last saw her.
"Very well. And now you've come and seen, and I'm--immensely grateful.
When you're better you shall go away and get something to eat. What sort
of a passage did you have coming over? "
Maisie was crying more subduedly, for the first time in her life glad
that she had something to lean against. Dick patted her on the shoulder
tenderly but clumsily, for he was not quite sure where her shoulder
might be.
She drew herself out of his arms at last and waited, trembling and most
unhappy. He had felt his way to the window to put the width of the room
between them, and to quiet a little the tumult in his heart.
"Are you better now? " he said.
"Yes, but--don't you hate me? "
"I hate you? My God! I?
"
"Isn't--isn't there anything I could do for you, then? I'll stay here
in England to do it, if you like. Perhaps I could come and see you
sometimes. "
"I think not, dear. It would be kindest not to see me any more, please.
I don't want to seem rude, but--don't you think--perhaps you had almost
better go now. "
He was conscious that he could not bear himself as a man if the strain
continued much longer.
"I don't deserve anything else. I'll go, Dick. Oh, I'm so miserable. "
"Nonsense. You've nothing to worry about; I'd tell you if you had. Wait
a moment, dear. I've got something to give you first. I meant it for
you ever since this little trouble began. It's my Melancolia; she was a
beauty when I last saw her.
