She had refused him. She could have
continued to ``borrow'' from him the wherewithal
to keep her in luxurious comfort while she looked about
at her ease for a position that meant independence.
She had thrust the temptation from her. All this from
purely high-minded motives; for other motive there
could be none. She went to sleep, confident that on the
morrow she would continue to tread the path of self-
respect with unfaltering feet. But when morning came
her throat was once more slightly off--enough to make
it wise to postpone the excursion in search of a trial
for musical comedy. The excitement or the reaction
from excitement--it must be the one or the other--
had resulted in weakness showing itself, naturally, at
her weakest point--that delicate throat. When life
was calm and orderly, and her mind was at peace, the
trouble would pass, and she could get a position of some
kind. Not the career she had dreamed; that was
impossible. But she had voice enough for a little part,
where a living could be made; and perhaps she would
presently fathom the secret of the cause of her delicate
throat and would be able to go far--possibly as far as
she had dreamed.
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