"Life together is always a
chance for the man and woman who undertake it. Perhaps I surprise you
by breaking out like this. But when I think of us each going separate
ways----"
He held her hand tightly imprisoned between his, bending forward to
peer closely at her face. He could see nothing of astonishment or
surprise. Her lips were parted a little. Her expression, as he looked,
grew different, inscrutable, a little absent even, as if she were lost
in thought. But there was arising a quiver in the fingers he held
which belied the emotionless fixity of her face.
"I wonder if it is such a desperate chance?" she said slowly. "If it
is, why do you want to take it?"
"Because the alternative is worse than the most desperate chance I
could imagine," he answered. "And because I have a longing to face
life with you, and a dread of it alone. You can't see my ugly face
which frightens off other people, so it doesn't mean anything to you.
But you can hear my voice. You can feel me near you. Does it mean
anything to you? Do you wish I could always be near you?"
He drew her up close to him.
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