He
had accepted their hospitality; they had taken him and Alice in, and
done everything in the world for them--things for which no money
could ever repay them. And now he had struck them!
But the only effect of that was to make Montague regret that he had
ever had anything to do with the Wallings. If they expected to use
their friendship to tie his hands in such a matter, they were people
he would have left alone.
"But do you realize that it's not merely yourself you're ruining?"
cried Oliver. "Do you know what you're doing to Alice?"
"That is harder yet for me," the other replied. "But I am sure that
Alice would not ask me to stop."
Montague was firmly set in his own mind; but it seemed to be quite
impossible for his brother to realize that this was the case. He
would give up; but then, going back into his own mind, and facing
the thought of this person and that, and the impossibility of the
situation which would arise, he would return to the attack with new
anguish in his voice. He implored and scolded, and even wept; and
then he would get himself together again, and come and sit in front
of his brother and try to reason with him.
Pages:
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385