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Malet, Lucas, 1852-1931

"Deadham Hard"

Exactly what passed between the young man and young
girl in that hand-clasp--the first contact they had had of one
another--it might seem far-reached and fantastic to affirm; yet that it
steadied not only Damaris' trembling limbs, but her trembling and
over-wrought spirit, is beyond question. For it was kind and more than
kind--tender, and that with the tenderness of right and usage rather than
of sentimental response to a passing sentimental appeal.
"There, there," he said, "what's the use of working to keep up this
little farce any longer? Just give in--you can't put off doing so in the
end. Why not at once, then, accept defeat and spare both yourself and me
pain? You are no more fit to walk, than you are fit to fly--to fly away
from me!--That's what you want, isn't it? Ah! that flight will come, no
doubt, all in good time.--But meanwhile, be sensible. Put your left arm
round my neck--like this, yes. Then--just a little hoist, and, if you'll
not worry but keep still, nothing's easier.


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