Chapter XXIII

           

           IsawStricklandnotinfrequently,andnowandthenplayedchesswithhim.Hewasofuncertaintemper.Sometimeshewouldsitsilentandabstracted,takingnonoticeofanyone;andatothers,whenhewasinagoodhumour,hewouldtalkinhisownhaltingway.Heneversaidacleverthing,buthehadaveinofbrutalsarcasmwhichwasnotineffective,andhealwayssaidexactlywhathethought.Hewasindifferenttothesusceptibilitiesofothers,andwhenhewoundedthemwasamused.HewasconstantlyoffendingDirkStroevesobitterlythatheflungaway,vowinghewouldneverspeaktohimagain;buttherewasasolidforceinStricklandthatattractedthefatDutchmanagainsthiswill,sothathecameback,fawninglikeaclumsydog,thoughheknewthathisonlygreetingwouldbetheblowhedreaded.

           IdonotknowwhyStricklandputupwithme.Ourrelationswerepeculiar.Onedayheaskedmetolendhimfiftyfrancs.

           "Iwouldn’tdreamofit,"Ireplied.

           "Whynot?"

           "Itwouldn’tamuseme."

           "I’mfrightfullyhardup,youknow."

           "Idon’tcare."

           "Youdon’tcareifIstarve?"

           "WhyonearthshouldI?"Iaskedinmyturn.

           Helookedatmeforaminuteortwo,pullinghisuntidybeard.Ismiledathim.

           "Whatareyouamusedat?"hesaid,withagleamofangerinhiseyes.

           "You’resosimple.Yourecognisenoobligations.Nooneisunderanyobligationtoyou."

           "Wouldn’titmakeyouuncomfortableifIwentandhangedmyselfbecauseI’dbeenturnedoutofmyroomasIcouldn’tpaytherent?"

           "Notabit."

           Hechuckled.

           "You’rebragging.IfIreallydidyou’dbeoverwhelmedwithremorse.

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