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Wells, H. G. (Herbert George), 1866-1946

"Tono Bungay"

You are
entangled. What is the trouble? I asked you to marry me. You said you
would. But there's something."
My thoughts sounded clumsy as I said them.
"Is it something about my position?... Or is it
something--perhaps--about some other man?"
There was an immense assenting silence.
"You've puzzled me so. At first--I mean quite early--I thought you meant
to make me marry you."
"I did."
"And then?"
"To-night," she said after a long pause, "I can't explain. No! I can't
explain. I love you! But--explanations! To-night my dear, here we are in
the world alone--and the world doesn't matter. Nothing matters. Here I
am in the cold with you and my bed away there deserted. I'd tell you--I
will tell you when things enable me to tell you, and soon enough they
will. But to-night--I won't--I won't."
She left my side and went in front of me.
She turned upon me. "Look here," she said, "I insist upon your being
dead. Do you understand? I'm not joking. To-night you and I are out
of life. It's our time together. There may be other times, but this we
won't spoil.


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