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Conrad, Joseph, 1857-1924

"Victory"

Never
were such a lonely two out of the world, my dear! He might have tried
to remind me that he himself has a woman to look after. Why are you so
pale, Lena?"
"Am I pale?" she asked negligently.
"You are." Heyst was really anxious.
"Well, it isn't from fright," she protested truthfully.
Indeed, what she felt was a sort of horror which left her absolutely
in the full possession of all her faculties; more difficult to bear,
perhaps, for that reason, but not paralysing to her fortitude.
Heyst in his turn smiled at her.
"I really don't know that there is any reason to be frightened."
"I mean I am not frightened for myself."
"I believe you are very plucky," he said. The colour had returned to her
face. "I" continued Heyst, "am so rebellious to outward impressions
that I can't say that much about myself. I don't react with sufficient
distinctness." He changed his tone. "You know I went to see those men
first thing this morning."
"I know. Be careful!" she murmured.
"I wonder how one can be careful! I had a long talk with--but I don't
believe you have seen them. One of them is a fantastically thin, long
person, apparently ailing; I shouldn't wonder if he were really so. He
makes rather a point of it in a mysterious manner. I imagine he must
have suffered from tropical fevers, but not so much as he tries to make
out.


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