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