You deny it now, but you would
remember your own sacrifice. And then, of course, you would go back
to your work. I should want you to. But it would never be the same
again, never."
"I won't go back."
He shook his head.
"If you didn't, you would never forgive me. Every day you spent here
alone and idle would break one of those fragile bonds that hold us
so closely. If only you hadn't given up South America!"
"I was wrong," she said drearily.
At last he held out his arms.
"Myra," he said, "you mean more than anything else to me. This offer
pleased me; I admit it. But I can work on just as well here. I have
the Cromwell house, you know, and the Newburghs may build soon.
Don't let's think of it again."
She held back a moment, afraid to yield; but there was no resisting
her longing, and she ran to him with a little sigh, which he softly
echoed as he took her and held her close.
They had vowed to live only for one another. The theme of their love
was sublime enough, but the instruments were fallible. Human beings
can rarely sustain a lofty note beyond the measure of a supreme
moment. Emotional as she was in her gratitude, Myra would have kept
on sounding that note through the days and nights.
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