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Hope, Anthony, 1863-1933

"é"

You know I loved all that, loved it too much perhaps. But I'll do
without it. I'm your wife, your fate's mine. It'll be the braver thing
for you to face it, really; I'm ready to face it with you."
Still he would only look at her.
"We know what we both are," she went on with a little smile. "We're not
Mildmays, you and I. But let's try. I must tell you. I can't bear to
think that it's partly at least because of me that you won't try, that if
I were a different sort of woman it might be much easier for you to try.
If it's that at all, imagine what I should feel if--if anything happened
such as the doctors are afraid of."
"I've chosen my course. I believe the doctors are all wrong."
"Do you really believe that?" she asked quickly.
He shrugged his shoulders, seeming to say that he would not discuss it.
"A great many considerations influence me," he said with a touch of
pompousness.
"Am I one of them?" she persisted. "Because I don't want to be. I'm ready
to share your life, whatever it is."
"Are you?" he asked, with something of the same malicious smile that he
was wont to bestow on Aunt Maria.


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