Time might make a difference; he was
forced to remember that it is commonly said that time and absence abate
all such attachments. He did not judge that time would make much
difference to him, but in this he might be mistaken.
A man who has depth in him seldom broods over real trouble--not at
first, at least. By this test may often be known the real from the
fanciful woe. Caius, knew, or his instincts knew, that his only chance
of breasting the current was, not to think of its strength, but to keep
on swimming. He took his horse's bits and the harness that had been
given him for his little sleigh, cleaning and burnishing everything with
the utmost care, and at the same time with despatch. He had some
chemical work that had been lying aside for weeks waiting to be done,
and this afternoon he did it. He had it on his mind to utilize some of
his leisure by writing long letters that he might post when it was
possible for him to go home; to-night he wrote two of them.
While he was writing he heard the people coming in twos and threes along
the road back to their houses for the night. He supposed that O'Shea had
got home with the girls he had been escorting, and that his wife had
come home, and that Madame Le Maitre had come back to her house and
taken up again her regular routine of life.
CHAPTER III.
"LOVE, I SPEAK TO THY FACE.
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