Philip had
not presumed to comfort him. But now the tension was too
great--he tried.
"Break down, Gino; you must break down. Scream and
curse and give in for a little; you must break down."
There was no reply, and no cessation of the sweeping hands.
"It is time to be unhappy. Break down or you will be
ill like my sister. You will go--"
The tour of the room was over. He had touched
everything in it except Philip. Now he approached him. He
face was that of a man who has lost his old reason for life
and seeks a new one.
"Gino!"
He stopped for a moment; then he came nearer. Philip
stood his ground.
"You are to do what you like with me, Gino. Your son is
dead, Gino. He died in my arms, remember. It does not
excuse me; but he did die in my arms."
The left hand came forward, slowly this time. It
hovered before Philip like an insect. Then it descended and
gripped him by his broken elbow.
Philip struck out with all the strength of his other
arm. Gino fell to the blow without a cry or a word.
"You brute!" exclaimed the Englishman. "Kill me if you
like! But just you leave my broken arm alone."
Then he was seized with remorse, and knelt beside his
adversary and tried to revive him. He managed to raise him
up, and propped his body against his own. He passed his arm
round him. Again he was filled with pity and tenderness.
He awaited the revival without fear, sure that both of them
were safe at last.
Gino recovered suddenly.
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