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Reed, Myrtle, 1874-1911

"Old Rose and Silver"

As I can't ask you to marry a
cripple, the only honourable thing for me to do is to release you from
our engagement. Don't think I blame you. Good-bye, darling, and may God
bless you.
"A. K."
The effort exhausted him greatly, but the thing was done. The nurse
folded it, put it into an envelope, sealed it, and took the pencil from
him.
"You'll let me address it, won't you?" she asked.
"Yes. Miss Isabel Ross. Anyone in the house can tell you where--anyone
will take it to her. Thank you," he added, speaking to the doctor.
That night, for the first time, the situation began to affect him
personally. In the hours after midnight, as the forces of the physical
body ebbed toward the lowest point, those of the mind seemed to
increase. Staring at the low night light, that by its feeble flicker
exorcised the thousand phantoms that beset him, he could think clearly.
In a rocking chair, across the room, the night nurse dozed, with a white
shawl wrapped around her. He could hear her deep, regular breathing as
she slept.
His father was dead--he knew that for an absolute fact, and wondered why
the two kind women and the endless, varying procession of men should so
persistently lie to him about this when they were willing to tell him
the truth about everything else.


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