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Schreiner, Olive, 1855-1920

"The Story of an African Farm, a novel"


She raised her hand gently and put it on his forehead.
"You are so silent, so cold, my Em," he cried. "Have you nothing to say to
me?"
A little shade of wonder filled her eyes.
"I will do everything you tell me," she said.
"What else could she say? Her idea of love was only service.
"Then, my own precious one, promise never to kiss that fellow again. I
cannot bear that you should love any one but me. You must not! I will not
have it! If every relation I had in the world were to die tomorrow, I
would be quite happy if I still only had you! My darling, my love, why are
you so cold? Promise me not to love him any more. If you asked me to do
anything for you, I would do it, though it cost my life."
Em put her hand very gravely round his neck.
"I will never kiss him," she said, "and I will try not to love any one
else. But I do not know if I will be able."
"Oh, my darling, I think of you all night, all day. I think of nothing
else, love, nothing else," he said, folding his arms about her.
Em was a little conscience stricken; even that morning she had found time
to remember that in six months her cousin would come back from school, and
she had thought to remind Waldo of the lozenges for his cough, even when
she saw Gregory coming.
"I do not know how it is," she said humbly, nestling to him, "but I cannot
love you so much as you love me.


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