Howard stood on the threshold. He saw I was sitting there facing
him, and he seemed to pause, unable to come forward or retreat. He
did not look particularly happy as a result of his work. His face
was pallid and haggard. Fool! to have flung away a valuable friend,
and shackled himself with the fear of another man!
"What do you want?" I said, as he did not move.
"My manuscripts, Victor. I left them here."
"There they are on the table. They are quite safe. Did you think I
should act as you have? Come and take them if you want them."
He had to pass close before me to do so, and I watched his nervous,
hurried approach to the table, and the trembling of his hand as he
gathered up the papers, with contemptuous eyes.
When he had grasped them all in his hand he gave an involuntary side
look at me and the motionless form beside me--a look that he seemed
unable to abstain from giving, though against his will. I met his
glance, and he hurried away back to his own door, and went through
it as a leper will shuffle and shamble away out of one's sight.
As soon as the morning came, I left the hotel without having tried
the vain attempt of sleep, and did not return to it till the
evening. At noon I called upon the publisher and explained that an
unfortunate accident had occurred, and the MS. I had received back
from him yesterday had been destroyed.
Pages:
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137