I forgot my manhood, or else it slipped from me unawares.

In the old Bible language, "I fell on his neck and wept." Afterwards I was not sorry for this, because I think my weakness gave him strength.

I think, amidst the whirl of passion that racked him it was good for him to feel that the one crowning cup of life is not inevitably life's sole sustenance; that it was something to have a friend and brother who loved him with a love--like Jonathan's--"passing the love of women." "I have been very wrong," he kept repeating, in a broken voice; "but I was not myself.

I am better now.

Come--let us go home." He put his arm round me to keep me warm, and brought me safely into the house.