The
little old man was of far too believing and charitable a nature to hold
out long against his own optimism; moreover, he detested strife and was
much more willing to endure a wrong than to harbor ill feeling; hence
he was only too ready to reconstruct Janoah's venomous story into terms
of his native blind faith. He did not, to be sure, understand, and for
days and nights he puzzled ceaselessly over the problem events
presented; but as no light was forthcoming, his zest in the enigma
cooled until the mystery took on the unfathomable quality of various
other mysteries he had wrestled with and finally shelved as
unanswerable. There was the invention to finish, and so eager was he
to see it completed that to this interest every other thought was
subordinated. Therefore, although misgivings assailed him, they
gradually receded into his subconsciousness, leaving behind them much
of the good will he had formerly cherished toward Robert Morton.
The olive branch Willie tacitly extended Bob seized with avidity. Had
not the world suddenly become too perfect to be marred by discord?
Why, in the exuberance of his joy he would have forgiven anybody
anything! He did own to bruised feelings, but time is a great healer
of both mental and of physical pain, and the hurts he had received soon
dimmed into scars that carried with them no acute sensation.
Pages:
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282