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Walpole, Hugh, Sir, 1884-1941

"The Captives"

Such a
mix-up! . . . it was then and so it is now. Amy always hated me. She
was really religious and she thought I was a hypocrite. But I wasn't
altogether. There was something real in it and there still is."
"Didn't you go to school?" asked Maggie.
"No, that was the mistake. They never sent me. Father loved me too
much and he wanted to keep me always with him. He tried to teach me
himself but I never learnt anything. I always knew I could turn them
round my little finger. I always knew he'd rather do anything than
make me unhappy. Sometimes we had lovely times together, sitting in
the dusk in the front of the fire. Do you know, Maggie, I've never
changed in my love for father? I've changed in everything else, but
in that never. Yet I've hurt him over and over and over again. I've
done things . . ." Here he broke off. To-day was to be happy; they
must build up their walls faster, faster, faster to keep the world
out. He would think of nothing, nothing but the present. The wind
blew and the heavy drops of rain fell, one and one and one, slowly
between the gusts. Ho drew her close to him.
"Are you cold?"
"No, Martin dear.


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