Very likely not. One may fling a glove in the face of
nature and in the face of one's own moral endurance quite innocently,
with a simplicity which wears the aspect of perfectly Satanic conceit.
However, as I have said it does not matter. It's a transgression all the
same and has got to be paid for in the usual way. But never mind that. I
paused because, like Anthony, I find a difficulty, a sort of dread in
coming to grips with old de Barral.
You remember I had a glimpse of him once. He was not an imposing
personality: tall, thin, straight, stiff, faded, moving with short steps
and with a gliding motion, speaking in an even low voice. When the sea
was rough he wasn't much seen on deck--at least not walking. He caught
hold of things then and dragged himself along as far as the after
skylight where he would sit for hours. Our, then young, friend offered
once to assist him and this service was the first beginning of a sort of
friendship. He clung hard to one--Powell says, with no figurative
intention. Powell was always on the lookout to assist, and to assist
mainly Mrs.
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