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Allen, James Lane, 1849-1925

"The Mettle of the Pasture"


She turned and looked at him. She felt the depth of conviction
with which he spoke, yet it hurt her. She liked his dignity and
his self-control, and would not have had them less; yet she
gathered fresh bitterness from the fact that he did not lose them.
But to her each moment disclosed its new and uncontrollable
emotions; as words came, her mind quickly filled again with the
things she could not say. She now went on:
"I am forced to ask these questions, although I have no right to
ask them and certainly I have no wish. I have wanted to know
whether I could carry out the plan that has seemed to me best for
each of us. If others shared your secret, I could not do this. I
am going away--I am going in the morning. I shall remain away a
long time. Since we have been seen together here to-night as
usual, no one suspects now that for us everything has become
nothing. While I am away, no one can have the means of finding
this out. Before I return, there will be changes--there may be
many changes. If we meet with indifference then, it will be
thought that we have become indifferent, one of us, or both of us:
I suppose it will be thought to be you. There will be comment,
comment that will be hard to stand; but this will be the quietest
way to end everything--as far as anything can ever be ended."
"Whatever you wish! I leave it all to you."
She did not pause to heed his words:
"This will spare me the linking of my name with yours any further
just now; it will spare me all that I should suffer if the matter
which estranges us should be discovered and be discussed.


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