Page 626 - of-human-bondage-

might have known that she would do this; she had never
cared for him, she had made a fool of him from the be-
ginning; she had no pity, she had no kindness, she had no
charity. The only thing was to accept the inevitable. The
pain he was suffering was horrible, he would sooner be dead
than endure it; and the thought came to him that it would
be better to finish with the whole thing: he might throw
himself in the river or put his neck on a railway line; but
he had no sooner set the thought into words than he re-
belled against it. His reason told him that he would get over
his unhappiness in time; if he tried with all his might he
could forget her; and it would be grotesque to kill himself
on account of a vulgar slut. He had only one life, and it was
madness to fling it away. He FELT that he would never over-
come his passion, but he KNEW that after all it was only a
matter of time.
He would not stay in London. There everything remind-
ed him of his unhappiness. He telegraphed to his uncle that
he was coming to Blackstable, and, hurrying to pack, took
the first train he could. He wanted to get away from the sor-
did rooms in which he had endured so much suffering. He
wanted to breathe clean air. He was disgusted with himself.
He felt that he was a little mad.
Since he was grown up Philip had been given the best
spare room at the vicarage. It was a corner-room and in
front of one window was an old tree which blocked the
view, but from the other you saw, beyond the garden and
the vicarage field, broad meadows. Philip remembered the
wall-paper from his earliest years. On the walls were quaint