He had every symptom of that malady. When Miss Marian Chapman was
within range of his vision there was room for no one else there. He
suffered from that peculiar optical condition which enabled him to see
but one thing at a time when she was present, and she was that one
thing, which was probably the reason why in his mind's eye she was the
only woman in the world, for Marian was ever present before
Jingleberry's mental optic. He had also examined as thoroughly as he
could in hypothesis the heart of this "only woman," and he had--or
thought he had, which amounts to the same thing--reason to believe that
she reciprocated his affection. She certainly seemed glad always when
he was about; she called him by his first name, and sometimes
quarrelled with him as she quarrelled with no one else, and if that
wasn't a sign of love in woman, then Jingleberry had studied the sex
all his years--and they were thirty-two--for nothing. In short, Marian
behaved so like a sister to him that Jingleberry, knowing how dreams
and women go by contraries, was absolutely sure that a sister was just
the reverse from that relationship which in her heart of hearts she was
willing to assume towards him, and he was happy in consequence.
Pages:
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126