Those feelings come to us, but they pass. I've felt like doing it many a time."
"Ugh!" He shuddered from head to foot.
Disgusted at being brought back, poor young devil, thought Eden. Preferred oblivion out there to that tidy little fortune of Gran's. Ah, he'd been having a rough time of it—no doubt about that! But he'd get over it—live to play the fool with the money. . . . Money. What must it be like to have money! Why the hell didn't Renny come? If only Gran had left the money to him! He'd have snapped his fingers in the family's face. There he went—shuddering again! Poor little devil!
The Whiteoak car! Rattling down the stony road as though it would fly to pieces. Bang! Some rut that! Rattle, jiggle, bump. Ungodly racket, but how the old car could go! There was Renny at the wheel, his face set, too weather-bitten to show pallor even though he'd had a fright. Serve him right! Serve them all right if the kid had been drowned. Eden guessed at the scene which had brought about this reckless act.
"Hullo!" he shouted. "Here we are!"
The car bumped on to the beach, stopped with a jerk, and the master of Jalna leaped out.
He came with a long, crunching stride. "What's this?" he asked sharply.
Eden got to his feet. "This boy's been trying to do away with himself."
"Do away with himself! Minny Ware told me that he'd got cramp swimming!"
"She was trying to spare your feelings! I'm not." Eden's face was set also. His characteristic half-smile was frozen into a queer grin. "He hasn't been able to tell anything, but I'll venture to say he was hounded into it!"
Renny bent over Finch. He looked into his eyes, felt his heart. "I must get him into bed. I've brought brandy with me." He held the cup from a flask to Finch's mouth, and, when he had gulped the brandy gaspingly, Renny refilled the cup and handed it to Eden. "This has been enough to kill you," he said grimly, "after all you've been through!"
