"Have you no
doubt of yourself, now that you are no longer the--the--ah--'only
Richmond in the field'?"
Here, though I strove to speak, I could not, but walked with head
bowed, but very conscious of his keen scrutiny.
"You are so intense, Perry," he continued after a moment, "so very,
damnably intense that I confess I grow a little fearful lest you be
disappointed, and therefore take the liberty to annoy you with my
dismal croakings, if I may--shall I proceed?"
"Pray do, sir!"
"Then, Peregrine, I would warn you that, considering her new attitude
towards life, her very altered views upon the world in general, it is
only to be expected your gipsy may find you very different from her
first estimation of you--"
"Ah, there it is, sir--there it is!" I groaned. "The haunting fear
that to-day--measured by the larger standard of her new experiences,
she may find me fall very far short of what she imagines me--"
"And if this be so,--how then?"
"Do not ask me, sir,--don't!"
"The ordinary, impassioned youth, under such unpleasantly frequent
circumstances, Peregrine, would seek oblivion in bottles or fly
instantly to all manner of riot and dissipation and be cured sooner or
later--but you? Knowing what I do of your devilishly intense nature, I
must admit I am a little disquieted. You see, Peregrine, I have
learned, though I grant you a little painfully, still I have learned
at last to--ah--to care for you so much that your unhappiness would
affect me--rather cursedly, boy--yes, rather cursedly.
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