"Yes," he said, "I have learnt at last that
that is how I am made; but I have been through a good many agonies
of disgust and discouragement about it in old days--it is the same
with everything I have touched. The bits of work that I have
completed have all been done in a rush--if the mood lasts long
enough, I am all right--and once or twice it has just lasted. I am
like a swimmer," he went on, "who can only swim a certain distance;
and if I judge the distance rightly, I can reach the point I desire
to reach; but I generally judge the distance wrong; and half-way
across I am seized with a sudden fright, and struggle back in
terror."
By one of the strange coincidences that sometimes happen in this
world, I took an unknown lady in to dinner a few days afterwards,
and happened to mention Willett's name. "Do you know him?" she
said. "Oh yes, of course you do!" she went on; "you are the Mr.
S---- of whom he has spoken to me." I found that my neighbour was
a distant relation of Willett's, and she told me a good deal about
him. He was absolutely alone in the world; he had been left an
orphan at an early age, and had spent his holidays with guardians
and relations, with any one who would take pity on him.
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