She seemed utterly weak, and I felt
she might say things in those moments she would be fearfully cut up
to remember afterwards. It seemed dishonourable in my shackled,
circumscribed position to lead her any farther on. That was my idea-
-perhaps it was mistaken--I don't know. Anyway we shook hands
merely. Then, at that time, she invited a kiss in every way short of
demanding it. Now, to-night I kissed her hand, not a very
extraordinary nor embarrassing action, and yet I thought she was
going to faint as a result. It moved some very strong sensation,
repulsion or disgust, or something, and I want to know what."
"You see, Vic," Dick said, after a minute or two of silence, laying
down the cigar and driving his elbow into the sofa cushion, and
leaning his head on his hand. He looked past me absently towards the
fender, and spoke as a person does whose opinion has long since been
formed. "We can't hold over anything in this life, opportunities,
our own powers, health, youth, they are all things you can't store
for the future. All we can do is to use them when they are put into
our hands. Still less can we reserve and warehouse our own feelings
and emotions, and least of all, those of others. You might compare
passion to a gas. If you allow gas its expansion it diffuses itself
and is lost. If you subject it to confinement with close pressure,
it becomes a liquid and loses its original form.
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