It looked
like ten to one against us, Phil, and I got a worse chill than the
sea ever gave me when I thought that I shouldn't see you again."
Philippa laid down her knitting. She looked searchingly into her
husband's face. She was very far from indifferent to his altered
tone.
"Henry," she said, "that sounds very terrible, but why do you run
such risks--unworthily? Do you think that I couldn't give you all
that you want, all that I have to give, if you came home to me with
a story like this and I knew that you had been facing death
righteously and honourably for your country's sake? Why, Henry,
there isn't a man in the world could have such a welcome as I could
give you. Do you think I am cold? Of course you don't! Do you
think I want to feel as I have done this last fortnight towards you?
Why, it's misery! It makes me feel inclined to commit any folly,
any madness, to get rid of it all."
Her husband hesitated. A frown had darkened his face. He had the
air of one who is on the eve of a confession.
"Philippa," he began, "you know that when I go out on these fishing
expeditions, I also put in some work at the new chart which I am so
anxious to prepare for the fishermen."
Philippa shook her head impatiently.
"Don't talk to me about your fishermen, Henry! I'm as sick with
them as I am with you.
Pages:
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111