Not many days after this, Ida, in London, received a letter,
addressed in a hand she knew well. There was a flush on her face as
she began to read; but presently came the pallor of a sudden joy
almost too great to be borne. The letter was a long one, containing
the story of several years of the writer's life, related with
unflinching sincerity, bad and good impartially set down, and all
leading up to words which danced in golden sunlight before her
tear-dimmed eyes.
For an hour she sat alone, scarce moving. Yet it seemed to her that
only a few minutes were allowed to pass before she took her pen and
wrote.
End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Unclassed
by George Gissing
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