But immediately
he saw the futility of such a course; the inexorable logic of existence
could not be so easily placated, its rhyming of cause and effect
defeated. All that he had told Susan Brundon recurred strengthened to an
immovable conviction. The thought of marrying Essie was intolerable,
farcical; to the woman herself it would mean utter boredom. Such a thing
must lead inevitably to a greater misfortune than any of the past.
Susan, in her resplendent ignorance of facts, failed to realize the
impossibility of what she upheld. No, no, it was out of the question.
He wondered if he had progressed in the other, his supreme, wish. And he
felt, with a stirring of blood, that he had. Susan cared for him; her
action had made that plain. That was a tremendous advantage; with
another he would have thought it conclusive; but not--not quite with
Susan Brundon. He had a deep regard for her determination, so surprising
in the midst of her fragility. Yet, if pity had not prevented him, this
afternoon, in her office, he might have forced her to a sharper
realization of a more earthly need, the ache for sympathy, consolation,
the imperative cry of self. That was his greatest difficulty, to
overcome her lifelong habit of thinking of others before herself.
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