For a while this rustle sounded like the whisper of a
gathering storm.
"It follows from this," concluded Captain Runacles, "that I am
responsible for the child's upbringing. Can you carry the reasoning
a step farther?"
The little man looked up. The wrath had clean died out of his
puckered face; and in place of it there showed a blank despair,
mingled with loathing and unspeakable bitterness of soul.
"Yes, I can," he replied very slowly, and turning away his face leant
a hand on the spade beside him. "Oh, Jemmy, Jemmy!" he muttered.
There was no entreaty in the words, but they pierced Captain Jemmy's
heart like two stabs of a knife. He took a step forward and
stretched out a hand as if to lay it on his old friend's shoulder.
The little man jumped aside, faced him again, hissing out one word--
"_You!_"
The arm dropped.
"Jack--I'm sorry; but you have drawn the wrong conclusion."
The pair looked each other in the face for a moment, and Captain
Runacles went on, but more coldly and as if repeating a task--
"Yes, the wrong conclusion. For my own part, as you once pointed
out, I have a girl. I may add that I propose to train up Sophia; and
I haven't the faintest doubt that, in spite of her sex, I can train
her to knock your Tristram into a cocked-hat in every department of
useful knowledge.
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