I came to you for safety. I was afraid
of Elizabeth, I was afraid of what I felt for her. I wanted to
escape from it."
She smiled piteously.
"It wasn't a very brave thing to do, was it?" she faltered.
"It was mean," he admitted. "It was worse than that. But,
Beatrice," he went on, "I was missing you horribly. You did
leave a big empty place when you went away. I am not going to
excuse myself about Elizabeth. I lived through a time of the
strangest, most marvelous emotions one could dream of. Then the
thing came to an end and I felt as though the bottom had gone out
of life. I suppose--I loved her," he continued hesitatingly. "I
don't know. I only know that she filled every thought of my
brain, that she lived in every beat of my heart, that I would
have gone down into Hell to help her. And then I understood.
That morning she told me something of the truth about herself,
not meaning to--unconsciously - justifying herself all the time,
not realizing that every word she said was damnable. And then
there didn't seem to be anything else left, and I had only one
desire. I turned my back upon everything and I went back to the
place where I was born, a little fishing village. For the last
thirty miles I walked. I shall never forget it. When I got
there, what I wanted was work, work with my hands. I wanted to
build something, to create anything that I could labor upon. I
became a boat builder--I have been a boatbuilder ever since.
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