But Darrell averted his head. When he found himself thinking about it, it upset him so that he at once resorted to distraction. Your brother has everything—I have not shown myself capable even of earning my own living except in a way which could not possibly bring any credit upon anybody. His fears supplied him with unwonted vigour. Let me go my own way towards them. So long as she stood beside him, the Hand would not prevail. He passed but a cursory glance over the formal certificate that identified the Frenchman before him as one André Valade, distant cousin to the Vicomte Valade. Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable. I cannot do it, David.
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