” He declared that no book could be satisfactory that left a bad taste in the mouth, however much it seized and interested the reader at the time. When he returned, it was always the same. ‘Dolt! Muttonheaded oaf! Why the deuce couldn’t he have sent you home?’ Valade cut in at that. " "That 'ud be no such easy matter," replied the countryman. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. You have been useful to me, or I would not have spared you thus long. Yet in some hidden corner was a vein of sentiment, of which for the first time in his later life he was now unexpectedly aware. We must always move on. For nothing will ever convince me that it is not the man’s share in life to shield, to protect, to lead and toil and watch and battle with the world at large.
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