The Girl on the Boat - Penn State University

“And I said I was quite ready.”
“Bless my soul! You’ve changed your views a trifle
since I saw you last.”
“I have changed them altogether.”
Long hours of brooding among the red plush settees
in the lounge of the Hotel Magnificent at Bingley-onthe-Sea
had brought about this strange, even morbid,
attitude of mind in Samuel Marlowe. Work, he had
decided, was the only medicine for his sick soul. Here,
he felt, in this quiet office, far from the tumult and noise
of the world, in a haven of torts and misdemeanours
and Vic. I. cap. 3’s, and all the rest of it, he might find
peace. At any rate, it was worth taking a stab at it.
“Your trip has done you good,” said Sir Mallaby approvingly.
“<strong>The</strong> sea air has given you some sense. I’m
glad of it. It makes it easier for me to say something
else that I’ve had on my mind for a good while. Sam,
it’s time you got married.”
Sam barked bitterly. His father looked at him with
concern.
“Swallow some smoke the wrong way?”
<strong>The</strong> <strong>Girl</strong> on the Boat
90
“I was laughing,” explained Sam with dignity.
Sir Mallaby shook his head.
“I don’t want to discourage your high spirits, but I
must ask you to approach this matter seriously. Marriage
would do you a world of good, Sam. It would brace
you up. You really ought to consider the idea. I was two
years younger than you are when I married your poor
mother, and it was the making of me. A wife might make
something of you.”
“Impossible!”
“I don’t see why she shouldn’t. <strong>The</strong>re’s lots of good
in you, my boy, though you may not think so.”
“When I said it was impossible,” said Sam coldly, “I
was referring to the impossibility of the possibility ….
I mean, that it was impossible that I could possibly …
in other words, father, I can never marry. My heart is
dead.”
“Your what?”
“My heart.”
“Don’t be a fool. <strong>The</strong>re’s nothing wrong with your
heart. All our family have had hearts like steam-en-