Doolan whispered to Isobel, as he went out; "he was really sorry to
leave us, and I didn't think he was a man to be sorry for anything
that didn't affect himself. I think he had absolutely the grace to
feel a little ashamed of leaving us."
"I don't think that is fair," Isobel said warmly, "when he is going
away to fetch assistance for us."
"He is deserting us as rats desert a sinking ship," Mrs. Doolan
said positively; "and I am only surprised that he has the grace to
feel a little ashamed of the action. As for caring, there is only
one person in the world he cares for--himself. I was reading
'David Copperfield' just before we came in here, and Steerforth's
character might have been sketched from Forster. He is a man without
either heart or conscience; a man who would sacrifice everything
to his own pleasures; and yet even when one knows him to be what
he is, one can hardly help liking him. I wonder how it is, my dear,
that scamps are generally more pleasant than good men?"
"I never thought about it, Mrs. Doolan," Isobel said, roused to
a smile by the earnestness with which Mrs. Doolan propounded the
problem; "and can give no reason except that we are attracted by
natures the reverse of our own."
Mrs. Doolan laughed.
"So you think we are better than men, Isobel? I don't--not one bit.
We are cramped in our opportunities; but given equal opportunities
I don't think there would be anything to choose between us. But
we mustn't stay talking here any longer; we both go on duty in the
sick ward at four o'clock.
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