By the postmark she saw that it had been mailed on a train.
DEAR GIRL: I have caught my breath, so to speak, but I doubt if ever a
more forlorn cuss listened to the interminable clicking of car wheels.
I am tempted at each station to turn back and try again. It seems so
unreal, this parting in hot anger, so miserably unnecessary. But when
I stop to sum it up again, I see no use in another appeal. I could
come back--yes. Only the certain knowledge that giving in like that
would send us spinning once more in a vicious circle prevents me. I
didn't believe it possible that we could get so far apart. Nor that a
succession of little things could cut so weighty a figure in our lives.
And perhaps you are very sore and resentful at me this morning for
being so precipitate.
I couldn't help it, Hazel. It seemed the only way. It seems so yet to
me. There was nothing more to keep me in Granville--everything to make
me hurry away. If I had weakened and temporized with you it would only
mean the deferring of just what has happened. When you declared
yourself flatly and repeatedly it seemed hopeless to argue further. I
am a poor pleader, perhaps; and I do not believe in compulsion between
us.
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