Frank knew no more of the story than that: Willy had loved this actress vainly. On occasions Willy had alluded to her, but he had never shown signs of wishing to confide.
“Yes, I remember. How I loved that woman, and what a wreck it has made of my life. I daresay you often think me dull; I can quite understand your thinking me narrow-minded, selfish, and incapable of taking interest in other people’s affairs: losing her took the soul out of my life. Now nothing really amuses me—now nothing really interests me. I often think if I were to die, it would be a happy release.”
“You never told me anything about it before; wouldn’t she marry you?”
“I never knew her. I fell in love with her the first time I saw her, and my love swallowed up everything else. Then I wasn’t wrapped up in account-bo
