I witnessed it
all patiently, because the moment I came into the cuddy he had called
upon me to stand by him--and this, it seems, I had diplomatically
promised.
His agitation was impressive and alarming in the little cabin, like the
floundering of a great whale driven into a shallow cove in a coast. He
stood up; he flung himself down headlong; he tried to tear the cushion
with his teeth; and again hugging it fiercely to his face he let himself
fall on the couch. The whole ship seemed to feel the shock of his
despair; and I contemplated with wonder the lofty forehead, the noble
touch of time on the uncovered temples, the unchanged hungry character
of the face--so strangely ascetic and so incapable of portraying
emotion.
What should he do? He had lived by being near her. He had sat--in the
evening--I knew?-all his life! She sewed. Her head was bent--so. Her
head--like this--and her arms. Ah! Had I seen? Like this.
He dropped on a stool, bowed his powerful neck whose nape was red,
and with his hands stitched the air, ludicrous, sublimely imbecile and
comprehensible.
And now he couldn't have her? No! That was too much.
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