Page:Anthony John (IA anthonyjohn00jero).pdf/139

 understand. I supposed it was something grown up people did. I went to sleep again; and when I opened my eyes again it was dawn. She was still there. I called to her, and she raised her head and looked at me. It was such a strange face. I didn't know it was my mother."

Anthony looked at the picture. Betty was growing more like her every day.

"I wonder if we would be better without it," he said. "All the great love stories of the world: they've all been tragedies. Even the people round about us whom we know; it always seems to end in a muddle. Is every man bound to go through it?" he added with a laugh. "Or could a man keep out of it, do you think?"

"I think a strong man might," she answered. "It's weak men that make the best lovers."

"There have been strong men who have loved," suggested Anthony.

"Yes," she admitted. "Those are the great love stories that end in tragedy."

There came the sound of carriage wheels.

"I expect that's dad," she said.

She had risen. Passing, she lightly laid her hand on him.

"Don't ever fall in love," she said. "It would spoil you."