He was evidently hanging about there waiting for somebody
or something, and to my intense indignation, as he caught sight of
me, he came towards me.
"Oh, Victor," he said hurriedly, in an uncertain tone, "I must speak
to you!"
What intolerable insolence to dare to come to me, the man he had so
mortally injured. My impulse was to stretch out my right arm and
fell him to the ground with a blow that should have the force of my
whole system in it. The colour came hot in all my face.
"Pray don't let us have a scene here," I said, coldly.
"Very good, then come outside. It is only for a few seconds. You
always used to say you would never refuse to hear a person once,
whatever they had done."
It was my principle, as he said, and I controlled the loathing I had
of him, of his voice, his look, his presence, and said--
"Come out, then," and we went down to the door.
There was an alley just outside the hotel, a cul de sac, black and
empty. Down this we turned, and when we had passed the side door of
the hotel he spoke.
"Victor, I am awfully sorry about the MS.; I am really. I would give
worlds to replace it now if I could. I have been utterly wretched
since. Is there anything I can do now to help you?"
"No," I said bitterly, "you cannot re-write my manuscript nor
resuscitate my dog."
"Oh, why did I do it? I can't think! I can't understand it! If you
knew what I have felt since!"
"Have you nothing more to say than this?" I asked; "because this
sort of thing is useless and leads to nothing.
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