Such
a mood might probably be transient, and only engendered by the fatigue
of excitement, or even by the physical exhaustion attendant upon the
preservation of Valentine from the rage of Rupert and Mab. Julian told
himself that to dwell upon it, or to conceive of it as permanent, was
neither sensible nor acute, considering his intimate knowledge of the
doctor's nature, and of his firm friendship for Valentine. That he did
continue most persistently to dwell upon it, and with a keen suspicion,
must be due to the present desolation of his circumstances, and to the
vain babble of the blue-coated Methuselah, whose intellect roamed
incessantly through a marine past, peopled with love episodes of a
somewhat Rabelaisian character.
At the end of five days Julian abruptly threw up the sponge and returned
to London, abandoning the old salt to the tobacco-chewing, which was his
only solace during the winter season, now fast drawing to a close. He
went at once to see Valentine, who had a narrative to tell him concerning
Marr.
"You have probably read all about Marr in the papers?" he asked, when he
met Julian.
The question came at once with his hand-grasp.
"No," Julian said. "I shunted the papers, tried to give myself up
entirely to the sea, as the doctor advised.
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