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Various

"The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 57, July, 1862"


"Why, Richard! what's thee doing?" cried Asenath; "thee has thrown away
the very best specimen."
"Let it go," he answered, sadly. "I am afraid everything else is thrown
away."
"What does thee mean?" she asked, with a look of surprised and anxious
inquiry.
"Don't ask me, Asenath. Or--yes, I _will_ tell you. I must say it
to you now, or never afterwards. Do you know what a happy life I've
been leading since I came here?--that I've learned what life is, as if
I'd never known it before? I want to live, Asenath,--and do you know
why?"
"I hope thee will live, Richard," she said, gently and tenderly, her
deep-blue eyes dim with the mist of unshed tears.
"But, Asenath, how am I to live without you? But you can't understand
that, because you do not know what you are to me. No, you never guessed
that all this while I've been loving you more and more, until now I
have no other idea of death than not to see you, not to love you, not
to share your life!"
"Oh, Richard!"
"I knew you would be shocked, Asenath. I meant to have kept this to
myself. You never dreamed of it, and I had no right to disturb the
peace of your heart. The truth is told now,--and I cannot take it back,
if I wished.


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