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I kissed her as if it did not matter much, and said: "Helen, I must have my dinner this instant!" "Why, surely," she said, retreating from me with a little shock of pained surprise, "It is all ready, Esmerald. I will ring." She melted from my arms. Oh, if I had known, if I had known!

I had lived to be almost fifty years old, and no person had ever said: "Esmerald Thorne, you trust your attractive qualities too far. Power and charm do not give a man a permit to be disagreeable. Your temperament does not release you from the common-place human duty of self-restraint. A gentleman has no more right to get uncontrollably angry than he has to get drunk.

Where the tree had fallen it did lie. What was habit before death was habit after. What was natural then was natural now. What I loved living I loved dead. That which interested Esmerald Thorne the man interested Esmerald Thorne the spirit.

Be it, then, recorded, be it admitted, without let or hindrance, that I, Esmerald Thorne, physician and surgeon, forty-five years old, and of sane mind, did love that one woman, and her only, and her always, from the moment that my unworthy eyes first looked into her own, as she knelt before me on the moss beside the mountain brook, from that moment to this hour.

I can claim nothing more in the construction of these pages than the qualities of a faithful reporter. Such, I have tried to be. It was on the twenty-fifth of November of the year 187-, that I, Esmerald Thorne, fell upon the event whose history and consequences I am about to describe. Autobiographies I do not like.

"It is easier to come," I answered irritably, "than to know that you sit here making yourself miserable because I don't." "Have I ever fretted you about coming, Esmerald? I did not know it." "It would be easier if you did fret!" I cried crossly. "I'd rather you'd say a thing than look it. Any man would."

I can't drink this." "Esmerald" "Oh, what? I can't stop to talk. There, I've burned my tongue, now. If there's anything I can't stand, it is going to a consultation with a burned tongue." "How tired you are, Esmerald! I was only going to say that I am sorry. I can't let you go without saying that." "I can't see that it helps it any. I am so tired I don't want to be touched. Never mind my coat.

As I did so, my eye caught the heading, in large capitals, of the morning news in the open "Herald" which lay upon the desk behind the clerk. I stopped, and stooped, and read. This is what I read: The eminent and popular physician. Dr. Esmerald Thorne, At this moment, the broker entered the office. With the "Herald" in my hand, I made haste to meet him. "Brake!" I cried, "Mr. Brake!

I, Esmerald Thorne, President of the State Medical Society, and Foreign Correspondent of the National Evolutionary Association, forty-six years old, and a Darwinian, I loved my wife like any common, ardent, unscientific fellow. It is easy to toss words and a smile at it all, now. There have been times when either would have been impossible from very heart-break.

I turned, with my hand upon the latch of my heavy oaken door, and jerked the question out, as cross men do. "The baby isn't just right, somehow, Esmerald. I bated to bother you, for you never think it is anything. I dare say he will be better, but I thought I wouldn't let him come out of the nursery. Jane is with him. I've been a little troubled about him. He has cried all the afternoon."