"I do wish Jerry hadn't gone."

"So do I."

"It'll be worse for him, Eliot, than for any of us when he knows."

"I know. But he's always been like that, as long as I can remember. He
simply can't stand trouble. It's the only thing he funks. And his
funking it wouldn't matter if he'd stand and face it. But he runs away.
He's running away now. Say what you like, it's a sort of cowardice."

"It's his only fault."

"I know it is. But it's a pretty serious one, Anne. And he'll have to
pay for it. The world's chock full of suffering and all sorts of
horrors, and you can't go turning your back to them as Jerrold does
without paying for it. Why, he won't face anything that's even a little
unpleasant. He won't listen if you try to tell him. He won't read a book
that hasn't a happy ending. He won't go to a play that isn't a comedy...
It's an attitude I can't understand. I don't like horrors any more than
he does; but when I hear about them I want to go straight where they are
and do something to stop them. That's what I chose my profession for."

"I know. Because you're so sorry. So sorry. But Jerry's sorry too. So
sorry that he can't bear it."

"But he's got to bear it. There it is and he's got to take it. He's only
making things worse for himself by holding out and refusing. Jerrold
will never be any good till he _has_ taken it. Till he's suffered
damnably."

"I don't want him to suffer. I don't want it. I can't bear him to bear
it."

"He must. He's got to."

"I'd do anything to save him. But I can't."

"You can't. And you mustn't try to. It would be the best thing that
could happen to him."

"Oh no, not to Jerry."

"Yes. To Jerry. If he's ever to be any good. You don't want him to be a
moral invalid, do you?"

"No... Oh Eliot, that's Uncle Robert's door."

Upstairs the door opened and shut and Adeline came to the head of the
stairs.

"Oh Eliot, come quick----"

Eliot rushed upstairs. And Anne heard Adeline sobbing hysterically and
crying out to him.

"I can't--I can't. I can not bear it!"

She saw her trail off along the gallery to her room; she heard her lock
herself in. She had every appearance of running away from something.
From something she could not bear. Half an hour passed before Eliot came
back to Anne.

"What was it?" she said.

"What I thought. Gastric ulcer. He's had a haemorrhage."

That was what Aunt Adeline had run away from.

"Look here, Anne, I've got to send Scarrott in the c