"I wrote to him this afternoon," she announced curtly.
"You said you would do so."
"Would you like to know what I told him?"
She put her hands behind her back and stood facing me, somewhat
defiantly, in all her magnificence. I smiled. Women, much as they scoff
at the blindness of our sex, are often transparent.
"It's your firm determination to tell me," said I. "Well?"
She advanced a step nearer to me, and looked me straight in the eyes
defiantly.
"I told him that I loved you with all my heart and all my soul. I told
him that you didn't know it; that you didn't care a brass curse for me;
that you had acted as you thought best for the happiness of himself and
me. I told him that while you lived I could not think of another man.
I told him that if you could face Death with a smile on your face, he
might very well show the same courage and not chuck things right and
left just because a common woman wouldn't marry him or live with him and
spoil his career. There! That's what I told him.
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