Laying a great hand
upon her drooping head, he exclaimed with wonderful softness:
"My dear Mrs. Cortlandt, I'm very sorry for you, indeed I am. How
the boy ever let you go for any other woman I don't see, but he's
always been a fool--that's why he never cared for me. Now, now,
try to face it squarely--all good women are brave, and you're a
good woman. We both love him, and I know we can save him if we
pull together."
"Yes, yes!" She raised her drawn, white face eagerly to his. "It
will only take a word, but I have been like a mad woman. I
couldn't bear to give him up, and when I learned the truth I
thought I could let him--suffer. But I couldn't. Oh, I couldn't,
and I knew it all the time. I was distracted, that is all. You see
I have no shame in telling you this, for he is the first and only
man--"
"I know." He patted her in a way that said more than words.
"I couldn't have stood out much longer."
"Then you have proof?" His face was wild with eagerness.
"This. Take it quickly. I only found it last night. It had been
mislaid in the confusion. I meant to give it up, I really did."
With clumsy fingers she drew from the front of her dress an
unsealed letter and handed it to him. "Stephen was not a bad man,
you see, and he had no intention of wronging an innocent person.
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