Then the strange creature began to talk to her, not of what he had done,
nor even of what he had hoped to do, but of what he meant and was going
to do; how he would grow greater and richer, of schemes in politics and
in business, of the fervour and devotion of the fighting men behind him
and how they were sick of the old gang and would have no leader but
Alexander Quisante; of the prosperity of the Alethea, how the shares
rose, how big orders came in, how utterly poor old Maturin had blundered.
He spoke like a strong man with a wealth of years and store-houses of
force, who sees life stretched long before him, material to be shaped by
his hand and forced into what he will make it. He talked low and fast,
his eyes again roaming over the prospect; the evening fell while he still
talked. Almost it seemed then that the doctors were wrong, that his
courage was no folly, that indeed he would not die. O for the faith to
believe that! For his spell was on her again now, and now she would not
have him die. Once again he had his desire; once more her heart beat and
her eyes gleamed for him.
Pages:
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428