"
But he appeared in no haste to go on, for all the eagerness of his
eyes and those pallid, restless hands. The minister got quickly to
his feet. The situation was momentarily becoming intolerable; he must
have time to think it over, he told himself, and determine his own
relations to this new and unwelcome parishioner.
"I'm very sorry, sir," he began; "but--"
"None of that," growled Bolton. "Sit down, young man, and listen to
what I have to say to you. We may not have another chance like this."
His assumption of a common interest between them was most
distasteful; but for all that the minister resumed his chair.
"Now, as I've told you, my daughter appears unwilling to allow me out
of her sight. She tries to cover her watchfulness under a pretense of
solicitude for my health. I'm not well, of course; was knocked down
and beaten about the head by one of those devils in the prison--
Can't call them men: no decent man would choose to earn his living
that way. But cosseting and coddling in a warm house will never
restore me. I want freedom--nothing less. I must be out and away when
the mood seizes me night or day. Her affection stifles me at
times.... You can't understand that, of course; you think I'm
ungrateful, no doubt; and that I ought--"
"You appear to me, a monster of selfishness," Wesley Elliot broke in.
"You ought to stop thinking of yourself and think of her."
Bolton's face drew itself into the mirthless wrinkles which passed
for a smile.
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