I'm not answering you on an impulse. I love you. I love you. I'll say
that over ten thousand times. But here we are--"
"The rest of life together," I said.
"It wouldn't be together. Now we are together. Now we have been
together. We are full of memories I do not feel I can ever forget a
single one."
"Nor I."
"And I want to close it and leave it at that. You see, dear, what else
is there to do?"
She turned her white face to me. "All I know of love, all I have ever
dreamt or learnt of love I have packed into these days for you. You
think we might live together and go on loving. No! For you I will have
no vain repetitions. You have had the best and all of me. Would you have
us, after this, meet again in London or Paris or somewhere, scuffle to
some wretched dressmaker's, meet in a cabinet particulier?"
"No," I said. "I want you to marry me. I want you to play the game of
life with me as an honest woman should. Come and live with me. Be my
wife and squaw. Bear me children."
I looked at her white, drawn face, and it seemed to me I might carry her
yet.
Pages:
636
637
638
639
640
641
642
643
644
645
646
647
648
649
650
651
652
653
654
655
656
657
658
659
660