"Man is the only book of life. Go
on."
"There was another letter, from the brother, who was now high up in the
Company, asking me to come to England, and saying that they wished to
promote me far, and that he and his sister, with their families, would be
glad to see me."
"She was married then?"
The rashness of the suggestion made Fawdor wave his hand impatiently.
He would not reply to it. "I was struck down with all the news," he
said. "I wandered like a child out into a mad storm. Illness came; then
you, who have nursed me back to life. . . . And now I have told all."
"Not all, bien sur. What will you do?"
"I am out of the world; why tempt it all again? See how those twenty-
five years were twisted by a boy's vanity and a man's tyranny!"
"But what will you do?" persisted Pierre. "You should see the faces of
women and children again. No man can live without that sight, even as a
saint."
Suddenly Fawdor's face was shot over with a storm of feeling.
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