These dissensions--if such they could be called--never took place
except in the privacy of his study or mine. We thought too much of
each other to display our differences of opinion abroad or even in
the presence of Oliver; and however heated our arguments or
whatever our topic we invariably parted friends, till one fateful
night.
O God! that years of repentance, self-hatred and secret immolation
can never undo the deed of an infuriated moment. Eternity may
console, but it can never make me innocent of the blood of my
heart's brother.
We had had our usual wordy disagreement over some petty subject in
which he was no nearer wrong nor I any nearer right than we had
been many times before; but for some reason I found it harder to
pardon him. Perhaps some purely physical cause lay back of this;
perhaps the nervous irritation incident upon a decision then
pending in regard to Oliver's future, heightened my feelings and
made me less reasonable than usual. The cause does not matter, the
result does. For the first time in our long acquaintance, I let
Algernon Etheridge leave me, without any attempt at conciliation.
If only I had halted there! If, at sight of my empty study, I had
not conceived the mad notion of waylaying him at the bridge for
the hand-shake I missed, I might have been a happy man now, and
Oliver--But why dwell upon these might-have-beens! What happened
was this:
Disturbed in mind, and finding myself alone in the house, Oliver
having evidently gone out while we two were disputing, I decided
to follow out the impulse I have mentioned.
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