"
Then he dismissed the matter from his half-dazed mind and stumbled on
wearily, muttering his disjointed prayers.
Thus in due course he began to climb the little slope of Gunter's Hill.
The sun had set, but there was still a red glow in the sky, and against
this glow he perceived the tall figure of Anthony standing quite still.
When he was about a hundred yards away the figure suddenly collapsed,
as a man does if he is shot. The Reverend Septimus put his hand to his
heart and caught his breath.
"I know what that means," he said. "He was watching the window, and they
have just pulled down the blind. I suppose he must be fond of her and
it--affects him. Oh! if I were younger I think this would kill me, but,
thank God! as one draws near the end of the road the feet harden; one
does not feel the thorns so much. 'The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken
away, bl--bl--yes, I _will_ say it--blessed be the Name of the Lord.' I
should remember that she is so much better where she is; that this is
a very hard world; indeed, sometimes I think it is not a world, but a
hell. Oh! Barbara, my sweet Barbara!" and he struggled forward blindly
beating at the rough wind with his hands as though it were a visible
foe, and so at last came to the crest of the hill where Anthony Arnott
lay prone upon his face.
Pages:
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282