I only know that sooner or later I shall seek her out.
I shall discover all that I want to know, one way or the other.
It may be for happiness--it may be the end of the things that
count."
"I guessed this," Wilmore admitted, with a little shiver which he
was wholly unable to repress.
Francis nodded.
"Then keep it to yourself, my dear fellow," he begged, "like
everything else I am telling you tonight. I have come out of my
experience changed in many ways," he continued, "but, leaving out
that one secret chapter, this is the dominant factor which looms
up before me. I bring into life a new aversion, almost a
passion, Andrew, born in a tea-shop in the city, and ministered
to by all that has happened since. I have lost that sort of
indifference which my profession engenders towards crime. I am
at war with the criminal, sometimes, I hope, in the Courts of
Justice, but forever out of them. I am no longer indifferent as
to whether men do good or evil so long as they do not cross my
path. I am a hunter of sin. I am out to destroy. There's a
touch of melodrama in this for you, Andrew," he concluded, with a
little laugh, "but, my God, I'm in earnest!"
"What does this mean so far as regards the routine of your daily
life?" Wilmore asked curiously.
"Well, it brings us to the point we discussed down at
Brancaster," Francis replied.
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