There's nobody in
all South Africa who can go back farther with you into the past.
That alone ought to count for something."
Handsome still, in spite of his dark sunburn and his time-stained
khaki, Carew's face was wonderfully attractive, as it looked into
that of his friend. Weldon felt the attraction, even while he was
wondering why it was so powerless to move him. He liked Carew; since
the death of the Captain, no other man was linked more closely with
his life. Nevertheless, Carew's words left him cold. All things did
leave him cold of late. It was as if, in the fierce conflagration of
that one hour in the Johannesburg hospital, the fires of his nature
had burned themselves out beyond the possibility of being rekindled.
His intellect told him that Carew was in the right of it, that his
alternatives were speech or madness; but he faced the alternatives
with an absolute indifference. His intellect also told him that, for
the past three weeks, Carew's kindness had been unremitting; that
his care had served as a buffer between himself and the clumsy
tactlessness of their mates; that his sympathy now was leading him
to try to storm the barrier of his own reserve; but he met Carew's
advances with an icy front which could be thawed neither from
outside nor from within.
Pages:
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250