CHAPTER XVIII 



MR DASHWOOD LEAVES 



Mr Dashwood in his delirium had penetrated deep 

 into the wood, beyond sight of road or house, 

 before he recovered his normal senses. 



Then that unpleasant, candid friend who lives 

 in the brain of every man had his say. 



" Oh, what a fool you have made of yourself! 

 Oh, what a fool you have made of yourself! " 

 said the friend, who only speaks after an error 

 has been committed, and then in a gloating voice. 



" What will she think of you? " went on the 

 tormentor. " You have acted hke a hooHgan. 

 But that wouldn't matter, for passionate men are 

 apt to be hoohgans, and women don't mind that 

 — but to run away! To run like a rabbit! She 

 does not know about your absiu'd compact with 

 French. She only knows that you have behaved 

 like a hooligan or an Ass. Yes, my friend, an Ass, 

 with a capital A." 



There were nut groves here, and one required 



the instincts of a bush pig to make one's way in any 



given direction. Mr Dashwood, moving blindly 



and swiftly, spurred on by a mad desire to get 



back to The Martens, pack his bag, escape to 



London and explain everything in a letter, took 

 203 



