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After a time, however, though not a short time, she rose from the floor and went to her writing again her heart a little eased by weeping, yet the tears kept coming all the time, and she could not quite keep her paper from being blotted. The first sheet was spoiled before she was aware; she took another. "It makes me so glad and so sorry to write to you, that I don't know what to do.
Carmina's affectionate welcome had irritated her in the most incomprehensible manner. She was angry with herself for being irritated; she felt inclined to abuse the girl for believing her. "You fool, why don't you see through me? Why don't you write to that other fool who is in love with you, and tell him how I hate you both?"
Tell me all over again just how she looked and spoke that day you saw her in New York." "Would it not be better for me to write my letter first? Papa will be coming soon and Truda can never cook your bird as you like it." Surprised now by something not quite natural in her manner, he caught at her hand and held her as she was moving away. "You are tired," said he.
It had been on the way a month by the postmark, for letters travelled slowly in those days, and a private soldier in an infantry company was hard to find unless the address was pretty clear, which this was not. He did not open it immediately. His mother must be dead, and this he could not face. Nothing else would have made Vashti write.
"I love you now as I loved you in the happy years gone by," he said. "Indeed, I love you more, for I know how you have suffered, dearest. Mind you, I am not afraid. I do not regard myself as being in any great danger here that is not the point. So I will write the letter and you shall deliver it when you please. What is that?"
I don't see why he keeps me, only I suppose he'd be ashamed not to take me his six months as long as the court gave me to him for that time. Another two weeks later. I'm so angry I can hardly write, and at the same time I'm so angry I've just got to write. I can't talk. There isn't anybody to talk to; and I've got to tell somebody. So I'm going to tell it here.
Write to me while I am away, to the care of my father, at 'The Manor House, near Dartford. He will always know my address abroad, and will forward your letters. For your own sake, remember the warning I gave you this afternoon! Your faithful friend, A. B."
He often said that he would like to be buried there, the peace and quiet of the homely little place having a tender fascination for him. So we see that his heart was always in Kent. But let this single reference to his earlier years suffice, so that I may write of him during those years when I remember him among us and around us in our home.
Necessarily they are few, because necessarily with a small public there can be only subsistence for a few. For his science he is in a worse case. His country can produce neither teachers nor discoverers to compare with the numbers of such workers in the larger areas, and it will neither pay them to write original matter for his instruction nor to translate what has been written in other tongues.
When we were finished, Robinson turned to the children and gave them, a grandfatherly lecture about taking advantage of their opportunities, a lecture in which the white woman sitting beside him joined heartily drawing liberally on comments of ex-slaves in recent interviews concerning the helplessness felt in not being able to write and read letters from well loved friends.
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