“I’ve brought you up some dinner, Vee,” she said. Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand. Later, at the bottom of that envelope I found a letter. He looked up to see an ancient coach making its ponderous way down the street. "He has not the power—perhaps not the will to do so. “Do you mean to say that you have been here ever since I came?” “I am afraid that I must confess it,” he answered. Confidence in himself would strengthen him. I want to be a human being; I want to learn about things and know about things, and not to be protected as something too precious for life, cooped up in one narrow little corner. “I want to be your friend,” he said. When I think of the love you give me—One ought to give you back love. He understood. Wrenching his hands from her shoulders, she thrust them away and leapt up from the chair.
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