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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"A Sappho of Green Springs"

"
Rushbrook did not reply.
"At least, then, tell me why you 'cannot.'"
Rushbrook rose, and looking into her face, said quietly with his old
directness:--
"Because I love you, Miss Nevil."
A sudden instinct to rise and move away, a greater one to remain and
hear him speak again, and a still greater one to keep back the blood
that she felt was returning all too quickly to her cheek after the first
shock, kept her silent. But she dropped her eyes.
"I loved you ever since I first saw you at Los Osos," he went on
quickly; "I said to myself even then, that if there was a woman that
would fill my life, and make me what she wished me to be, it was you. I
even fancied that day that you understood me better than any woman, or
even any man, that I had ever met before. I loved you through all that
miserable business with that man, even when my failure to make you happy
with another brought me no nearer to you. I have loved you always. I
shall love you always. I love you more for this foolish kindness that
brings YOU beneath my roof once more, and gives me a chance to speak my
heart to you, if only once and for the last time, than all the fortune
that you could put at my disposal.


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