"To be sure. And now we really must be going."
He stood up staggering, gained his balance, and walked to the
window. The prospect thence seemed to recall him to a consciousness
of the actual present, and he looked round appealingly,
distressfully.
"I tell you what it is," said Gammon. "You ought to get into bed and
have a doctor. Shall I help you?"
"No, no; I regret that I came here, Greenacre. I am not welcome; how
could I expect to be? If I am going to be ill it mustn't be here."
"Then let me get a cab and take you to your own place, if your wife
is willing."
"That would be best. The truth is I feel terribly queer, Greenacre.
Suppose I--suppose I died here? Of course, I ought never to have
come. Think of the talk there would be; and that's just what I
wanted to spare them, the talk and the disgrace. It can all be
managed by my solicitor. But I felt that come I must. After all, you
see, it's home. You understand that? It's really my home. I've been
here often at night, just to see the house. The wonder is that I
didn't come in before.
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