I said it suddenly, "I am going back to Florence; I shall
leave Graysmill on Monday."
Richard Norton cried, "What?" and Jane cried, "Emilia!" It was only
Gabriel that said nothing.
He sprang up, and looked at me in silence. Thank Heaven, my back was
to the window, for I could not take my eyes away from his. I thought
he grew a little pale; I even thought his lips moved a little. Then
he spoke.
"No, no; who said that? We cannot spare you. Emilia, Emilia, you
must never leave us!"
That is how the dream goes. I put my head down on the table.
"God knows," I said, "I do not want to leave you."
There was a long silence; I sat there bowed, struggling with my
tears; I think I heard footsteps and a closing door. Then a hand was
laid upon my shoulder,--I knew whose hand it was, and I shook
beneath it.
I only know one thing more that I can tell you. I heard a voice. It
was not a loud voice, but it rang through the darkness; it swept the
world away.
"Emilia!" it said, "Emilia, you must not leave us! Stay with me,--I
love you!"
And then some cloud fell upon us.
Good night, dear, good night.
LETTER XXIX.
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