"
Ethne looked at him with apprehension.
"Yes?" she replied, and she strove to speak with unconcern. "Will you
tell me it?"
Durrance assented, and began in the deliberate voice of a man who has
thought out his subject, knows it by heart, and has decided, moreover,
the order of words by which it will be most lucidly developed.
"I know what blindness means to all men--a growing, narrowing egotism
unless one is perpetually on one's guard. And will one be perpetually on
one's guard? Blindness means that to all men," he repeated emphatically.
"But it must mean more to me, who am deprived of every occupation. If I
were a writer, I could still dictate. If I were a business man, I could
conduct my business. But I am a soldier, and not a clever soldier.
Jealousy, a continual and irritable curiosity--there is no Paul Pry like
your blind man--a querulous claim upon your attention--these are my
special dangers." And Ethne laughed gently in contradiction of his
argument.
"Well, perhaps one may hold them off," he acknowledged, "but they are to
be considered. I have considered them. I am not speaking to you without
thought. I have pondered and puzzled over the whole matter night after
night since I got your letter, wondering what I should do.
Pages:
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191