Was this the kind of boy to kill himself? Surely not. Keith must have
been mistaken. And Count Caloveglia--was he mistaken too? Evidently.
There was nothing tragic about Denis. He was brimming over with life.
His troubles, whatever they were, must have been forgotten.
"I've been lunching with Keith," he began. "He made me tell him a
fairy-tale."
"Sit down and have some coffee! You came away very early."
"He told me he wanted to go to sleep after luncheon. And one or two
other nice things."
Ah, thought Mr. Heard, Keith was acting up to what he had said in the
boat; he was being good to the boy; that was right of him.
"I'm sure," he said, "that Keith has been speaking kindly to you."
"Kindly? It's like talking to an earthquake. He told me to dominate my
reflexes. He called me a perambulating echo. He said I was a human
amoeba--"
"Amoeba. What's that?"
"A sort of animal that floats about trying to attach itself to
something which it can't find."
"I think I see what he means.
Pages:
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609
610
611
612
613
614
615
616
617
618
619
620
621
622
623
624
625
626