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Schreiner, Olive, 1855-1920

"The Story of an African Farm, a novel"

There were two hours yet before she must call him. She
sat down at the dressing-table to wait, and leaned her elbows on it, and
buried her face in her hands. The glass reflected the little brown head
with its even parting, and the tiny hands on which it rested. "One day I
will love something utterly, and then I will be better," she said once.
Presently she looked up. The large, dark eyes from the glass looked back
at her. She looked deep into them.
"We are all alone, you and I," she whispered; "no one helps us, no one
understands us; but we will help ourselves." The eyes looked back at her.
There was a world of assurance in their still depths. So they had looked
at her ever since she could remember, when it was but a small child's face
above a blue pinafore. "We shall never be quite alone, you and I," she
said; "we shall always be together, as we were when we were little."
The beautiful eyes looked into the depths of her soul.
"We are not afraid; we will help ourselves!" she said. She stretched out
her hand and pressed it over them on the glass. "Dear eyes! we will never
be quite alone till they part us--till then!"

Chapter 2.X. Gregory Rose Has An Idea.
Gregory Rose was in the loft putting it neat. Outside the rain poured; a
six months' drought had broken, and the thirsty plain was drenched with
water.


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