Eh! but ye wad be a fine lad gin ye wad
only gie up the drink and the ill company."
Alec obeyed, ashamed and full of remorse. The only thing he could do
was to attend to Mr Cupples's business in the library, where he worked
at the catalogue till the afternoon lecture was over.
Nobody had seen Beauchamp, and the blinds of Kate's windows were drawn
down.
All day his heart was full of Mr Cupples; and as he went home he
recalled everything with perfect distinctness, and felt that his
conduct had been as vile as it was possible for conduct to be. Because
a girl could not love him, he had ceased to love his mother, had given
himself up to Satan, and had returned the devotion of his friend with a
murderous blow. Because he could not have a bed of roses, he had thrown
himself down in the pig-stye. He rushed into a public-house, and
swallowed two glasses of whisky. That done, he went straight home, and
ran up to Mr Cupples's room.
Mr Cupples was sitting before the fire, with his hands on his knees and
his head bound in white, bloodstained. He turned a ghastly face, and
tried to smile. Alec's heart gave way utterly. He knelt at Mr Cupples's
feet, laid his head on his knee, and burst into very unsaxon but most
gracious tears.
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