It would pain
him inexpressibly, remembering old times, to be forced to give
me a direct refusal. . . . But was there anything else he could
do for me?
"That, Roddy, was the valley of the shadow of my death, and I had
no rod or staff to comfort me.
"I did not answer him in words. I gave him a look, and walked
out.
"My purpose had been to apply for temporary work, to relieve some
younger teacher who wished to enlist for medical work at the
front. Had you been in London, Roddy, I'd have pocketed shame
and come to you, and borrowed the price of a suit of clothes;
inside of which--and may be with your support--I might have
walked up boldly for a commission in the R.A.M.C.--for there was
nothing definite against me: only I was ruined, and my old
credentials, set against my present squalor, were so
comparatively splendid as to raise instant suspicion of drink
and disgrace. But it was part of my just punishment that, when
I most needed help, you should be far abroad searching for the
very island on which I had shipwrecked all.
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