. . never, never."
Maggie tossed her head. "Well, if it was a mistake," she said, "the
end of pretending has come at last. I've been trying for nearly two
years now to go your way and Paul's. I can't do it. I can't alter
myself. I've tried, and I can't. It's no use. Grace, we'd never get
on. I see it's been hopeless from the first. But you shan't make
Paul hate me. You've been trying your hardest, but you shan't
succeed. I know that I'm stupid and careless, but it's no use my
pretending to be good and quiet and obedient. I'm not good. I'm not
quiet. I'm not obedient. I'm going to be myself now. I'm going to
have the friends I want and do the things I want."
Grace moved back as though she thought that Maggie were going to
strike her.
"You're wicked," she said. "What about those letters in your drawer?
You've never loved Paul."
"So you've been opening my drawers?" said Maggie. "You're worse than
I, Grace. I never opened any one's drawers nor read letters I
shouldn't. But it doesn't matter. There's nothing I want to hide.
Paul knows all about it. I'm not ashamed."
"No, you're not," Grace's eyes were large with terror.
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