Веснушки

Chapter XVII

           Nowheundoubtedlywishesfordeath,andthatitcomequickly.”

           “Thenhemustdie,”saidMcLean.

           Hisbroadshouldersshookconvulsively.Hisstronghandsopenedandclosedmechanically.

           “Doesthatmeanthatyouknowwhathedesiresandcannot,orwillnot,supplyit?”

           McLeangroanedinmisery.

           “Itmeans,”hesaiddesperately,“thatIknowwhathewants,butitisasfarremovedfrommypowertohelphimasitwouldbetogivehimastar.Thethingforwhichhewilldie,hecanneverhave.”

           “Thenyoumustpreparefortheendveryshortly”saidthesurgeon,turningabruptlyaway.

           McLeancaughthisarmroughly.

           “Youlookhere!”hecriedindesperation.“YousaythatasifIcoulddosomethingifIwould.Itellyoutheboyisdeartomepastexpression.Iwoulddoanything—spendanysum.Youhavenoticedandrepeatedlycommentedontheyounggirlwithme.Itisthatchildthathewants!Heworshipshertoadoration,andknowinghecanneverbeanythingtoher,heprefersdeathtolife.InGod’sname,whatcanIdoaboutit?”

           “Barringthatmissinghand,Ineverexaminedafinerman,”saidthesurgeon,“andsheseemedperfectlydevotedtohim;whycannothehaveher?”

           “Why?”echoedMcLean.“Why?Well,formanyreasons!Itoldyouhewasmyson.Youprobablyknewthathewasnot.AlittleoverayearagoIneverhadseenhim.Hejoinedoneofmylumbergangsfromtheroad.Heisastray,leftatoneofyourhomesforthefriendlesshereinChicago.Whenhegrewupthesuperintendentboundhimtoabrutalman.Heranawayandlandedinoneofmylumbercamps.

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