In those first London months,as always afterwards while it remained physically possible,I saw much of him;loved him,as was natural,more and more;found in him,many ways,a beautiful acquisition to my existence here.He was full of bright speech and argument;radiant with arrowy vitalities,vivacities and ingenuities.Less than any man he gave you the idea of ill-health.Hopeful,sanguine;nay he did not even seem to need definite hope,or much to form any;projecting himself in aerial pulses like an aurora borealis,like a summer dawn,and filling all the world with present brightness for himself and others.Ill-health?Nay you found at last,it was the very excess of _life_in him that brought on disease.This restless play of being,fit to conquer the world,could it have been held and guided,could not be held.It had worn _holes_in the outer case of it,and there found vent for itself,--there,since not otherwise.
第51章 BAYSWATER(2)（3 / 3）