It was indeed as though he had been pledged to something in his
early life, and because he had broken from that pledge had been
pursued ever since . . .
He stripped to the waist and bathed in cold water; even then it
seemed to him that his flesh was heavy and dull and yellow, that he
was growing obese and out of all condition. He put on a clean shirt
and collar, sat down on his bed and tried to think the thing out. To
whomsoever he had done harm in the past he would now spare Maggie
and his father. He was surprised at the rush of tenderness that came
over him at the thought of Maggie; he sat there for some time
thinking over every incident of the last three weeks; that, at
least, had been a good decent time, and no one could ever take it
away from them again. He looked at her picture in the locket and
realised, as he looked at it, a link with her that he had never felt
with any woman before. "All the same," he thought, "I should go
away. She'd mind it at first, but not half as much as she'd mind me
later on when she saw what kind of a chap I really was. She'd be
unhappy for a bit, but she'd soon meet some one else.
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