Yes,
and he would have gone on, and not turned, though to resist the Devil
who poured such hot temptation in his brain, required an effort scarcely
to be achieved, if this man had not himself summoned him to stop: and
that, with an assumed compassion in his voice which drove him well-nigh
mad, and in an instant routed all the self-command it had been
anguish--acute, poignant anguish--to sustain.
All consideration, reflection, mercy, forbearance; everything by which
a goaded man can curb his rage and passion; fled from him as he turned
back. And yet he said, slowly and quite calmly--far more calmly than he
had ever spoken to him before:
'Why have you called to me?'
'To remark,' said Sir John Chester with his wonted composure, 'what an
odd chance it is, that we should meet here!'
'It IS a strange chance.'
'Strange? The most remarkable and singular thing in the world. I never
ride in the evening; I have not done so for years. The whim seized me,
quite unaccountably, in the middle of last night.--How very picturesque
this is!'--He pointed, as he spoke, to the dismantled house, and raised
his glass to his eye.
'You praise your own work very freely.'
Sir John let fall his glass; inclined his face towards him with an air
of the most courteous inquiry; and slightly shook his head as though he
were remarking to himself, 'I fear this animal is going mad!'
'I say you praise your own work very freely,' repeated Mr Haredale.
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