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"Yesterday a few hours ago that remark would have given me new hope new courage; but since then I have learned too much." The old man, skilled in the human heart, did not attempt to argue in such a matter. "Too early to give in, my boy." "I am not of a giving-in kind," replied the young man earnestly. "But, after all, it is wise to realise a truth.
Campbell, though let me tell you, I think I am giving-in to Maggie more than I ought to, sir." "David, we are going to be brothers, and I am proud and glad of it. Suppose you drop the Mr. Campbell and the sir I think it is quite time." "There is a measure of respect in the word sir; and I wouldna care to drop it altogether with my nearest and dearest; I like it for myself whiles.
The flaming, the craving chills of desire! Just this last giving-in. This one. To be rested and fresh for him to-morrow. Then never again. The little beaded hand bag. O God! help me! That burning ache to rest and to uncurl of nervousness. All the thousand thousand little pores of her body, screaming each one to be placated. They hurt the entire surface of her.
This does not imply, however, a weak giving-in to grief and mourning. One who has been bereaved can never, it is true, be the same again, for he or she becomes more chastened, more loving, more sympathetic, richer and more mellow in character. The loved one can never be forgotten, but that is no reason why the heart should be bowed down by grief and the life made desolate by sorrow.
And his final giving-in to everything Fay wanted because Fay wanted it. Did her father really like Hugo Tancred? she wondered. And then came the certainty that he wouldn't ever have liked anybody much who wanted to marry either of them; but he was far too just and too imaginative to stand in the way where, what seemed, the happiness of his daughter was concerned.
Oh God, let me sleep. Please, God. The wheeze rising in her closed throat. That little threatening desire that must not shape itself! It darted with the hither and thither of a bee bumbling against a garden wall. No. No. Ugh! The vast chills of nervousness. The flaming, the craving chills of desire! Just this last giving-in. This once. To be rested and fresh for him tomorrow. Then never again.
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