And, curiously, the man himself shared the gladness that touched
the mood of the girl, for he experienced a sudden pride in his
accomplishment of the night, a pride that delighted a starved
part of his nature. Somewhere in him were the seeds of
self-sacrifice, the seeds of a generous devotion to others. But
those seeds had been left undeveloped in a life that had been
lived since early boyhood outside the pale of respectability.
To-night, Joe Garson had performed, perhaps, his first action
with no thought of self at the back of it. He had risked his
life to save that of a stranger. The fact astonished him, while
it pleased him hugely. The sensation was at once novel and
thrilling. Since it was so agreeable, he meant to prolong the
glow of self-satisfaction by continuing to care for this waif of
the river. He must make his rescue complete. It did not occur to
him to question his fitness for the work. His introspection did
not reach to a point of suspecting that he, an habitual criminal,
was necessarily of a sort to be most objectionable as the
protector of a young girl.
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