I needed to be shown your affection for me, as I was
ever ready, ever anxious, to show mine for you, in all the little ways
that are the language of the heart and that fill a woman's life with
music.
"All this I needed. My nature cried out for it as instinctively as the
nature of man cries out for God. But all this I needed generally in
vain. You were not always a niggard. You were ready sometimes to give
in your way. But were you ever ready to give in mine when you saw--and
sometimes you must have seen, sometimes you did see--what mine was? I
longed always to give you all you wanted in the way you wanted it. But
you gave when you wished and as you chose to give. I was often
grateful. I was too often grateful. I was unduly grateful. Because I
was giving, I was always giving far more than I received.
"But all that time I had something. All that time I had a memory that
I counted sacred. All that time, like an idiot child, I was clasping
in my hand a farthing, which I believed, which I stated, to be a
shining piece of gold.
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