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especially a man like Hornblower whose persistent and unfounded disbelief in his own capacity left him continually frightened of professional disgrace and ruin.
For some reason which I cannot fully analyze a fresh-water fisherman can never be suspected of evil intent — except possibly by the fish.”
he lay down again to think about it, and this time, with its usual capriciousness, sleep surprised him in the midst of his speculations, and he slept soundly until Brown brought him his breakfast coffee.
“You are the sort of man,” she went on, “whom women love very easily. I do not expect that I shall be the last. I don’t think that you will ever love anybody, or know what it is to do so.”
He hesitated guiltily here, wondering whether his desire would survive gratification.
