..! Who
could consort with one who was never wrong, a successful, righteous
fellow; a chap built so that he knew nothing about himself, wanted to
know nothing, a chap all solid actions? To be a quicksand swallowing
up one's own resolutions was bad enough! But to be like Keith--all
willpower, marching along, treading down his own feelings and
weaknesses! No! One could not make a comrade of a man like Keith, even
if he were one's brother? The only creature in all the world was the
girl. She alone knew and felt what he was feeling; would put up with him
and love him whatever he did, or was done to him. He stopped and took
shelter in a doorway, to light a cigarette. He had suddenly a fearful
wish to pass the archway where he had placed the body; a fearful wish
that had no sense, no end in view, no anything; just an insensate
craving to see the dark place again. He crossed Borrow Street to the
little lane. There was only one person visible, a man on the far side
with his shoulders hunched against the wind; a short, dark figure which
crossed and came towards him in the flickering lamplight. What a face!
Yellow, ravaged, clothed almost to the eyes in a stubbly greyish growth
of beard, with blackish teeth, and haunting bloodshot eyes.
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