"Well, I mean wouldn't YOU love to do for some one what Auntie Sue has
done for you? I should if I were only big enough and good enough.
It seems to me it would make one the happiest and contentedest and
peacefulest person in the world, wouldn't it?"
Brian did not answer. While he felt himself agreeing with Betty Jo's
view, he was wondering at himself that he could discuss the matter
so calmly. It was not that he no longer felt deeply the shame of this
terrible thing that he had done; it was not that he had ceased to suffer
the torment that had caused his emotional madness, which had found
expression in his attempt to destroy his manuscript; it was only
that this young woman somehow made it possible for him to retain his
self-control, and instead of venting his emotions in violent and wholly
useless expressions of regret, and self-condemnation, and in irrational,
temperamental action, to consider coolly and sanely what he must do. He
was strangely possessed, too, of an instinctive certainty that Betty Jo
knew exactly how he felt and exactly what she was doing.
While he was thinking these things, or, rather, feeling them, Betty Jo
went to see how the manuscript was drying. She returned to her seat on
the rock presently, saying: "It is doing very nicely,--almost dry. I
think it will be done pretty soon. In the meantime, what are we going
to do about everything? You have thought of something for you to do, of
course!"
"I fear I have felt rather more than I have thought," returned Brian.
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