I did not hear much of their talk, for the wind
grew occasionally to the force of a hurricane and the sails and tiller
absorbed my attention; but I could see that Sangree was pleased and
happy, and was pouring out intimate revelations to his companion in the
way that most people did--when John Silence wished them to do so.
But it was quite suddenly, while I sat all intent upon wind and sails,
that the true meaning of Sangree's remark about the animal flared up in
me with its full import. For his admission that he knew it was in pain
and starved was in reality nothing more or less than a revelation of his
deeper self. It was in the nature of a confession. He was speaking of
something that he knew positively, something that was beyond question or
argument, something that had to do directly with himself. "Poor starved
beast" he had called it in words that had "come out of their own
accord," and there had not been the slightest evidence of any desire to
conceal or explain away. He had spoken instinctively--from his heart,
and as though about his own self.
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