I have
returned to you here to-night to explain my motive in making the
alterations in those books, and to account for the peculiarities of those
verses. We have known each other, my dear boy, how many years?"
"Fifteen, Tom," I said, my voice husky with emotion.
"Yes, fifteen years, and fifteen happy years, Phil. Happy years to me, to
whom the friendship of one who understood me was the dearest of many dear
possessions. From the moment I met you I felt I had at last a friend, one
to whom my very self might be confided, and who would through all time and
under all circumstances prove true to that trust. It seemed to me that you
were my soul's twin, Phil, and as the years passed on and we grew closer
to each other, when the rough corners of my nature adapted themselves to
the curves of yours, I almost began to think that we were but one soul
united in all things spiritual, two only in matters material. I never
spoke of it to you; I thought of it in communion with myself; I never
thought it necessary to speak of it to you, for I was satisfied that you
knew.
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