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Walpole, Hugh, Sir, 1884-1941

"The Cathedral"


"We could talk much better, Joan dear," he said, "if we were close
together."
"No," she said; "then I couldn't talk at all. We mustn't meet alone again
after to-day, and we mustn't write, and we mustn't consider ourselves
engaged."
"Why, please?"
"Can't you see that it's all impossible? We've tried it now for weeks and
it becomes more impossible every day. Your mother's absolutely against it
and always will be--and now at home--here--my mother----"
She broke off. He couldn't leave her like that; he sprang up, went across
to her, put his arms around her, and kissed her. She didn't resist him nor
move from him, but when she spoke again her voice was firmer and more
resolved than before.
"No, Johnny, I mean it, I can think of nothing now but father. So long as
he's alive I must stay with him. He's quite alone now, he has nobody. I
can't even think about you so long as he's like this, so unwell and so
unhappy. It isn't as though I were very clever or old or anything. I've
never until lately been allowed to do anything all my life, not the
tiniest bit of housekeeping, and now suddenly it has all come.


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