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Watts-Dunton, Theodore, 1832-1914

"Aylwin"


'How do you manage to exist, father,' I said, 'with that heavy
sharp-edged jewel on your breast? you who cannot bear the gout with
patience?'
'Exist? I could not exist _without_ it. The gout is pain--this is not
pain; it is joy, bliss, heaven! When I am dead it must lie for ever
on my breast as it lies now, or I shall never rest in my grave.' He
had been talking about amulets in the most quiet and matter-of-fact
way during that morning; but the I moment he produced this cross a
strange change came over his face, something like the change that
will come over a dull wood-fire when blown by the wind into a bright
light of flame.
'Ha!' he muttered to himself, as his eyes widened and sparkled with a
look of intense eagerness and his hand shook, sending the light of
the beautiful jewel all about the room, 'it is a sad pity he was not
her son. How I should have loved him then! I like him now very much;
but how I should have loved him then, for he is a brave boy. Oh, if I
had only been born brave like him!' Then, suddenly recollecting
himself, he closed his vest, and said: 'Don't tell your mother, Hal;
don't tell your mother that I have shown you this.


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