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The Dedication

           “Yousee,”shesaidradiantlyandwithagesturethatdisclosedherselftome,“Icanforgiveeventhat.Youlongagoearnedtherighttohurtmeifyouwantto.”

           ItweanedmeofallfurtherdesiretorailatMary,andIfeltanuncommondrawingtoher.

           “AndifIdidthinkthatforalittlewhile,”shewenton,withanunsteadysmile.

           “Thinkwhat?”Iasked,butwithoutthenecessarysnap.

           “Whatweweretalkingof,”sherepliedwincing,butforgivingmeagain.“IfIoncethoughtthat,itwasprettytomewhileitlastedanditlastedbutalittletime.Ihavelongbeensurethatyourkindnesstomewasduetosomeotherreason.”

           “Ma’am,”saidIveryhonestly,“Iknownotwhatwasthereason.Myconcernforyouwasinthebeginningaveryfragileandevenaselfishthing,yetnotaltogetherselfish,forIthinkthatwhatfirststirreditwasthejoyousswayofthelittlenurserygovernessasshewalkeddownPallMalltomeetherlover.ItseemedsuchamightyfinethingtoyoutobelovedthatIthoughtyouhadbettercontinuetobelovedforalittlelonger.AndperhapshavinghelpedyouoncebydroppingaletterIwascharmedbytheeasewithwhichyoucouldbehelped,foryoumustknowthatIamonewhohaschosentheeasywayformorethantwentyyears.”

           Sheshookherheadandsmiled.“Onmysoul,”Iassuredher,“Icanthinkofnootherreason.”

           “Akindheart,”saidshe.

           “Morelikelyawhim,”saidI.

           “Oranotherwoman,”saidshe.

           Iwasverymuchtakenaback.

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