Since we first took you in hand between
us, Barrington and I, I have never swerved in my anxiety on your
behalf. When I resolved that it would be better for us both that we
should be only friends, I did not swerve. When you would talk to me
so cruelly of your love for Violet, I did not swerve. When I warned
you from Loughlinter because I thought there was danger, I did not
swerve. When I bade you not to come to me in London because of my
husband, I did not swerve. When my father was hard upon you, I
did not swerve then. I would not leave him till he was softened.
When you tried to rob Oswald of his love, and I thought you would
succeed,--for I did think so,--I did not swerve. I have ever been
true to you. And now that I must hide myself and go away, and be seen
no more, I am true still."
"Laura,--dearest Laura!" he exclaimed.
"Ah, no!" she said, speaking with no touch of anger, but all in
sorrow;--"it must not be like that. There is no room for that. Nor do
you mean it. I do not think so ill of you. But there may not be even
words of affection between us--only such as I may speak to make you
know that I am your friend."
"You are my friend," he said, stretching out his hand to her as he
turned away his face. "You are my friend, indeed.
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