You were my refuge--and you--you love a cripple!
Why didn't I guess? I would have been glad, for Ethel is a dear child, and
I had given you sorrow enough. I did not love you; I do not think I have
pretended to love you. But can no man help seeming to care for me--help
caring while he is with me? Ned told me he did not love; but you, you I
trusted; you would have married me, not letting me know--
Ethel limps, she is plain. Plain as I was when you adored my ugly face, my
freckles. Does beauty kill love, or do men see beauty only where they
love? Little brown partridges, little brown partridges--
The Bacillus is a cheat; every woman to her lover is the most beautiful!
Ethel's good. You would have found me conspicuous, an annoyance among
people who shrink from the extraordinary. I have been fond of Ethel.
I was marrying you to get my debts paid--you knew that--but there was
more. You must believe--you know there was more. I thought you loved me.
Was that strange? How many times have you spoken to me of love? I wanted
to show my gratitude, to make you happy, since happiness was not for me. I
would have tried; I would have buried my own misery; buried everything but
the sense of your goodness.
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