She didn't want me to know; but uncle
insisted. I think he was sorry for--father.... Oh, you don't know
what it is like to be in prison for years--to have all the manhood
squeezed out of one, drop by drop! I think if it hadn't been for me
he would have died long ago. I used to pretend I was very gay and
happy when I went to see him. He wanted me to be like that. It
pleased him to think my life had not been clouded by what he called
his _mistake_.... He didn't intend to wreck the bank, Mr. Dodge. He
thought he was going to make the village rich and prosperous."
She leaned forward. "I have learned to smile during all these years.
But now, I want to tell everybody--I long to be free from pretending!
Can't you see?"
Something big and round in his throat hurt him so that he could not
answer at once. He clenched his hands, enraged by the futility of his
pity for her.
"Mrs. Daggett seems a kind soul," she murmured. "She would be my
friend. I am sure of it. But--the others--"
She sighed.
"I used to fancy how they would all come to the station to meet
him--after I had paid everybody, I mean--how they would crowd about
him and take his hand and tell him they were glad it was all over;
then I would bring him home, and he would never even guess it had
stood desolate during all these years. He has forgotten so much
already; but he remembers home--oh, quite perfectly. I went to see
him last week, and he spoke of the gardens and orchards. That is how
I knew how to have things planted: he told me.
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