something of his own odd character in Elspeth which made her as
incapable of loving as himself, and some of his devotion to her was
due to this belief; for perhaps nothing touches us to the quick more
than the feeling that another suffers under our own curse; certainly
nothing draws two souls so close together in a lonely comradeship. But
though Tommy had reflected about these things, he did not trouble
Elspeth with his conclusions. He merely gave her to understand that he
loved her and she loved him so much that neither of them had any love
to give to another. It was very beautiful, Elspeth thought, and a
little tragic.

"You are quite sure that you mean that," she might ask timidly, "and
that you are not flinging away your life on me?"

"You are all I need," he answered cheerily, and he believed it. Or, if
he was in another mood, he might reflect that perhaps he was
abstaining from love for Elspeth's sake, and that made him cheery
also.

And now David Gemmell was the man, and Tommy genially forgave him all
else for liking Elspeth. He invited the doctor, who so obviously
distrusted him, to drop in of an evening for a game at the dambrod
(which they both abominated, but it was an easy excuse); he asked him
confidentially to come in and see Aaron, who had been coughing last
night; he put on all the airs of a hail-fellow-well-met, though they
never became him, and sat awkwardly on his face. David always seemed
eager to come, and tried to rise above his suspicions of Tommy, as
Tommy saw, and failed, as Tommy saw again. Elspeth dosed the doctor
with stories of her brother's lovely qualities, and Tommy, the
forgiving, honestly pitied the poor man for having to listen to them.