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Dickinson, Anna E.

"What Answer?"

Surrey, if
my daughter does not love you, it would be hopeless for you or for me to
assail her refusal. If she does, she has doubtless rejected you for a
reason which you can read by simply looking into my face. No words of
mine can destroy or do that away."
"There is nothing to destroy; there is nothing to do away. Thank you for
speaking of it, and making the way easy. There is nothing in all the
wide world between us,--there can be nothing between us,--if she loves
me; nothing to keep us apart save her indifference or lack of regard for
me. I want to say so to her if she will give me the chance. Will you not
help me to it?"
"You comprehend all that I mean?"
"I do. It is, as I have said, nothing. That love would not be worth the
telling that considered extraneous circumstances, and not the object
itself."
"You have counted all the consequences? I think not. How, indeed, should
you be able? Come with me a moment." The two went up to the house,
across the wide veranda, into a room half library, half lounging-room,
which, from a score of evidences strewn around, was plainly the special
resort of the master. Over the mantel hung the life-size portrait of an
excessively beautiful woman. A fine, _spirituelle_ face, with proud
lines around the mouth and delicate nostrils, but with a tender,
appealing look in the eyes, that claimed gentle treatment. This face
said, "I was made for sunshine and balmy airs, but, if darkness and
storm assail, I can walk through them unflinching, though the progress
be short; I can die, and give no sign.


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