Why did we, Lee, when we have each
other?"
"Our own private Folly." He smiled at her.
"Not that" she reproved him; "I can't bear to think of it in a small
way. Why, it will be all I'll ever have--I shall never think of anyone
else like this again; and you'll go back, you'll go away. But I hope
you won't forget me, not at once--you must keep me in your heart for a
little."
"I'll never be able to get you out," he declared.
"You want to, then, and I am--" She lost control of herself as though
she had passed into a hypnosis, uniquely frozen with passion, incapable
of movement, of the accommodation of her sight; her breathing was slow,
almost imperceptible in its shallowness. "I am a part of you," Savina
went on when she had recovered. "It would kill me if I weren't. But it
does mean something." Her heel cut until he thought he was bleeding.
"What?" he asked, through the thin azure smoke of the cigar. She shook
her head contentedly:
"I don't care; I have--now, anyway--what I wish, what I've always
wished for--you. I didn't know it was you right away, how could I? Not
even when we had tea, and talked about Mina and your young Morris, that
first afternoon. It was the next day before I understood. Why wasn't it
long long ago, when I was a girl, twelve years old? Yes, quite that
early. Isn't it queer, Lee, how I have been troubled by love? It
bothers hardly anyone else, it scarcely touches the rest.
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