Sometimes I'm afraid I'll
do it. Years back when I had a rush of blood to the head of that sort I
used to take it out in swearing till the atmosphere was blue; but I
can't do that any more."
"Why not?" King asked, with a good deal of curiosity.
"I did it once too often--and the last time I sent a dying soul to the
other world with my curses in its ears--the soul of a child, Jord. I
lost my head because his mother had disobeyed my orders, and the little
life was going out when it might have stayed. When I came to myself I
realized what I'd done--and I made my vow. Never again, no matter what
happened! And I've kept it. But sometimes, as to-night--Well, there's
only one thing I can do: keep my tongue between my teeth as long as I
can, and then--get away somewhere and smash things till I'm black and
blue."
"That's what you've been doing back in the woods?" King ventured to ask.
"Rather. Anyhow, it's evened up my circulation and I can be decent
again. I'm not going to tell you what made me rage like the bull of
Bashan, for it wouldn't be safe yet to let loose on that. It's enough
that I can treat a good comrade like you as I did and still have him
stand by."
"I felt a good deal in the way, but I'm glad now I was with you."
"I'm glad, too, if it's only that you've discovered at last what manner
of man I am when the evil one gets hold of me. None of us likes to be
persistently overrated, you know."
"I don't think the less of you for being angry when you had a just
cause, as I know you must have had.
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