And
nobody here does seem to know. And I can't wait for ever. I've got
to lead my own life and if you won't come with me I must go off by
myself--"
He was following his own ideas now--not looking at his father at
all. "I've discovered since I've been home that I'm not the sort of
fellow to settle down. I suppose I shall go on wandering about all
my days. I'm not proud of myself, you know, father. I don't seem to
be much good to any one, but the trouble is I don't want to be much
better. I feel as though it wouldn't be much good if I did try. I
can't give up my own life--for nobody--not even for you--and however
rotten my own life is I'd rather lead it than some one else's."
He stopped and then went on quietly, as though he were arguing
something out with himself: "The strange thing is that I do feel
this place has got a kind of a hold on me. When you remind me of
what I was like as a kid I go right back and feel helpless as though
you could do anything with me you like. All the same I don't believe
in this business, father--all this Second Coming and the rest of it.
We're in the Twentieth Century now, you know, and everybody knows
that that kind of thing is simply impossible.
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