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Updated: June 27, 2025
Then he did go on, and in a totally different voice. "When I look myself squarely in the face, Whittenden, I find I can assent to just two points, no more." "And they?" "God. Universal law." "So far, so good. And man?" Whittenden queried. "Their corollary." "Exactly." Whittenden walked on in silence for a little way. "Well, what else do you want, Brenton?" he inquired. "Nothing.
And the curly-headed rector by his side made swift, emphatic answer, "Yes." "Then why " Whittenden interrupted him. "What do you believe, Brenton? For any man is bound to have some shreds of belief; that is, as long as he keeps out of the nearest asylum for the incurable insane." "My belief, or my profession?" "Hang your profession!" Whittenden said impatiently.
Some residuum of jealous self-distrust, left over from his primitive beginnings, and causing him to look on every prosperous man as on a potential foe? The alternatives were too many and too complex to be settled by a two-hour study of the man beside him. Therefore Whittenden, being Whittenden, ended by putting the direct question.
Whittenden shook his head, as, settling back again, he flung his hand up into the old resting place. "Not if it's given you for just that purpose," he answered then. "No, Reed, hear me out. It never has been your way to dodge responsibilities; in the end, you're sure to buck up against this one, so you may as well take it now as ever. This thing appears to be your present asset.
"I've been accused unjustly of a good many things in my time, Whittenden. Besides," again there came the grimace at the couch; "it rather seems to me that I'm the one who has been upset." "That's the whole row. You are the first brick in the line. You bowled over Brenton; now he appears to be bowling over his wife. Yes, I mean it.
Opdyke and Whittenden alike had risen to the emergency with which fate had confronted them, had done their downright, obvious duty, regardless of any consequences beyond the simple one of fulfilling the immediate need. They were men of action and sincerity, men who really counted to the world. He He smiled bitterly.
Reed made an expressive grimace at the couch. "Besides, I'm a little bit like old Knut on the seashore; my own toes are getting very wet. The worst of that matter is that Brenton knows it." Whittenden spoke tranquilly, his eyes on Opdyke's face, sure that he could rely upon the sense of humour in his friend. "Yes, Brenton does know it.
All that week, he had clung to Whittenden, as the drowning man clings to the life raft. In the end, Whittenden had dragged him to the shore. And now it was his own turn to do as much for his parents, and for Olive. Yes, for Olive. Poor Olive! Yes, she was bound to take it hard.
For God's sake, then, don't let the time ever come between us when I must stop being of some little use to you, as I've just had to do in the case of Brenton." But, even while he spoke, he knew there was no need for Opdyke's prompt reply, "I fancy it never would come to that between the two of us. We've faced too many bad half-hours together. If only I could " Whittenden understood.
Instead, he forced himself to think of Whittenden, of the charge that Whittenden had laid on him concerning Brenton. It had seemed a bit unfair at the time; now, looking backward, Opdyke could see that, as usual, Whittenden had been wise. Responsibilities, such as that one, would be very steadying. The need of holding the next man fast would tighten his grip upon himself.
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