And with the effort of turning he exhausted
himself; in the course of an hour or two all his strength had
left him. Vague fears flitted harassingly through his thoughts.
If he had inflammation of the lungs--that was a disease of which
one might die, and speedily. Death? No, no, no; impossible at
such a time as this, when Amy, his own dear wife, had come back
to him, and had brought him that which would insure their
happiness through all the years of a long life.
He was still quite a young man; there must be great reserves of
strength in him. And he had the will to live, the prevailing
will, the passionate all-conquering desire of happiness.
How he had alarmed himself! Why, now he was calmer again, and
again could listen to the music of the breakers. Not all the
folly and baseness that paraded along this strip of the shore
could change the sea's eternal melody. In a day or two he would
walk on the sands with Amy, somewhere quite out of sight of the
repulsive town. But Willie was ill; he had forgotten that. Poor
little boy! In future the child should be more to him; though
never what the mother was, his own love, won again and for ever.
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