Then she told me of you."
"She told you rather late," said I.
"But she would have kept her promise. Couldn't you forgive her, Mark,
for that one moment of forgetting? It was just one moment, and I left
her then forever. We thought you'd never know."
"And thinking that, you came whistling down the road that night," I
sneered. "You came whistling like a man mightily pleased with his
conquest--or, perhaps you sang so gayly from sheer joy in your own
goodness. It seems to me at times like that a man would----"
"A man would whistle a bit for courage," Tim interrupted. "Couldn't he
do that, Mark? Couldn't he go away with his head up and face set, or
must he totter along and wail simply because he is doing a fair thing
that any man would do?"
"Why, in Heaven's name, couldn't you keep her for yourself?" I cried,
pounding the floor with my crutch.
Then, in my anger I arose and went stamping up and down the room, while
Tim sat there staring at me blankly. At last I halted by the fireplace
and stood there looking down at him very hard.
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