” “And now—I am to lose you. But this time she wanted nothing for herself: she wanted something for Hoddy—success. . You represented to us the immaculate Briton, the one Englishman who typified the Saxonism, if I may coin a word, of our race. Automatically, she glanced at the slight red graze left on her neck that marked the point where Gerald’s sword had nicked her. Oh, the beautiful books! Romance, adventure, love stories! She gathered up the books in her arms and cuddled them, as a mother might have cuddled a child. He seemed to be thinking hard. Not a star could be discerned, but, in their stead, streaks of lurid radiance, whence proceeding it was impossible to determine, shot ever and anon athwart the dusky vault, and added to the ominous and threatening appearance of the night. Your lamented mother, whose loss I shall ever deplore, perceived my passion and encouraged it. Men in this part of the world drink to forget the things they have lost. Marvel, in a tone intended to be consolatory. You see, I’m selfish.
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