The
sound in that grey, silent room was more than he could bear. He went over
to her and put his arms round her.
"Norah, Norah, please, please. It's so awfully bad for you. I oughtn't to
come if I--"
She pulled herself together. Her voice was quite calm and controlled.
"Sit over there, Peter. I've got to talk to you."
He went back to his chair.
"I've only got a few more weeks to live. I know it. Perhaps only a few more
days. I must make the very utmost of my time. I've got to save you...."
He said nothing.
"Oh! I know that it must all have seemed to you abominable--as though I
were making use of this illness of mine to extort a promise from you, as
though just because I'm weak and feeble I can hold an advantage over you.
Oh! I know it's all abominable!--but I'll use everything--yes, simply
everything--if I can get you to leave this place and go back!"
He could feel that she was pulling herself together for some tremendous
effort.
"Peter, I want you now just to think of me, to put yourself out of
everything, absolutely, just for this half-hour. After all as I've only
a few half-hours left I've got that right."
Her laugh as she said it was one of the saddest things he'd ever heard.
"Now I'm going to tell you something--something that I'd never thought I'd
tell a soul.
"I've not had a very cheerful life.
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