It is past and gone."
"I was not tired, Madame. It is very difficult to live in the present
when the past has been so brilliant," I answered.
"So brilliant!" She sighed. "So thoughtless,--I think that is the
sharpest regret." I watched her fingers as they stitched, wondering how
they could work so rapidly. At last she said in a low voice, "Antoinette
and Mr. Temple have told me something of your life, Mr. Ritchie."
I laughed.
"It has been very humble," I replied.
"What I heard was--interesting to me," she said, turning over her frame.
"Will you not tell me something of it?"
"Gladly, Madame, if that is the case," I answered.
"Well, then," she said, "why don't you?"
"I do not know which part you would like, Madame. Shall I tell you about
Colonel Clark? I do not know when to begin--"
She dropped her sewing in her lap and looked up at me quickly.
"I told you that you were a strange man," she said. "I almost lose
patience with you. No, don't tell me about Colonel Clark--at least not
until you come to him. Begin at the beginning, at the cabin in the
mountains."
"You want the whole of it!" I exclaimed.
She picked up her embroidery again and bent over it with a smile.
"Yes, I want the whole of it."
So I began at the cabin in the mountains. I cannot say that I ever
forgot she was listening, but I lost myself in the narrative.
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