At last came a pause. I determined to go: then thought of some questions I would care to ask him, and said:
'I cannot understand, sir, why you have spoken to me like this. I know nothing of my father or my mother. You say you were my father's friend'
'So I was/ he wailed, 'so I was—till she came between us!'
I gave my teeth an impatient clench: then bit my lip and closed my right hand with all my strength, determined not to say what was now on my tongue. What good could it do?
I said:
'I have nothing left then, absolutely nothing?'
He stared at me half vacantly.
'Absolutely nothing,' he repeated.
A new resolution came to me: to leave the questions unasked and go—go at once.
'Good-night, sir, I said, 'I will leave you now.'
He stared at me as before.
'You are not, ah, going?' he said.
'Yes, sir, I am going,' I said; 'good-night.' As I was turning away, he started up convulsively and burst out:
'But it is insanity! I will not hear of it! I will not endure it! I am your guardian. Do you hear, sir, that I am your guardian? Salmon! Damn the man! Salmon, I say!'
I was out of the door and had closed it to. I could hear his voice now wailing as I went to the head of the stairs. Then it died away. I found my bag and hat in the hall. My coat was over my arm: I do not remember either having taken it up or put it there. I went on to the hall-door: opened it, after a little trouble with the latch: went out: pulled it to, by its big round brass handle in the middle, once, twice, and passed over the step and on to the pavement. It was raining.
I walked on into a main street, and then, turning to the right, walked on down it. The perpetual movement of people and horses and things about me brought a feeling into me that I had never felt before. I forgot about myself and my own affairs and my hunger
