"
"For her sake?" he repeated, staring. "If she is indifferent how can
that matter to her? Well, I suppose I am a nuisance to her--as much as
I am to myself. There it is: I am an interloper."
"My poor boy," his cousin said with a kindly smile, "you don't know
your own mind two minutes running. During this past week you have been
blown about by all sorts of contrary winds of opinion and fancy.
Sometimes you thought she cared for you--sometimes no. Sometimes you
thought it a shame to interfere with Mr. Roscorla; then again you grew
indignant and would have slaughtered him. Now you don't know whether
you ought to go away or stop to persecute her. Don't you think she is
the best judge?"
"No, I don't," he said. "I think she is no judge of what is best for
her, because she never thinks of that. She wants somebody by her to
insist on her being properly selfish."
"That would be a pretty lesson."
"A necessary one, anyhow, with some women, I can tell you. But I
suppose I must go, as she says. I couldn't bear meeting her about
Eglosilyan and be scarcely allowed to speak to her. Then when that
hideous little beast comes back from Jamaica, fancy seeing them walk
about together! I must cut the whole place. I shall go into the army:
it's the only profession open to a fool like me; and they say it won't
be long open, either.
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