I'm going off to earn my living
soon, aren't I?"
Aunt Elizabeth drew her breath in sharply. Aunt Anne said quietly:
"You are free, dear, quite free. But whilst I am not quite myself--I
don't want to be selfish, dear--but you are a great comfort to us,
and when I am stronger certainly you shall go . . . even now if you
wish, of course . . . but my illness."
Even as she spoke--and it was the first time that she had ever
mentioned her illness--she caught at her breast and pressed her hand
there as though she were in great pain. Maggie sprang to her side.
She caught the girl's hand with hers and held her. Maggie could feel
her swift agonized breathing. Then with a little sigh the moment had
passed. Maggie still knelt there looking up into her aunt's face.
Martha's voice was heard at the door.
"Mr. Martin Warlock, Miss. Could you see him? . . ."
"Yes, Martha," said Aunt Anne, her voice calm and controlled. "Ask
him to come up."
She had abandoned so completely any idea that he might still come
that she could not now feel that it was he. She withdrew from her
aunt's side and stood in the shadow against the wall.
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