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Alma-Tadema, Laurence, 1865?-1940

"The Wings of Icarus Being the Life of one Emilia Fletcher"

Gabriel sat next me. We could not talk, so I
thought we might as well play backgammon, and we set the board so
that he could not see Constance.
When Gabriel left, I took him as far as the blue door, first making
a round of the garden and shrubbery; it was a dear walk. He said,
"Shall we make a match of it, Emilia, between your perfumed uncle
and that benighted woman?" It certainly was an excellent idea.
Towards the end he said:
"Emilia, you have been rather pale these last days. Take care of my
girl, my dear girl. And your step is not over firm; you cling to me
as you walk."
Why, yes, that was true enough; I was clinging to him with all my
force.
Gabriel is older than he was; he would never have noticed this when
first I knew him, not even when first he loved me. He has grown much
more thoughtful of late.
All this holds together. I am perfectly calm; I am not deceiving
myself. I am calm because I see the need of self-possession and
reflection. Gabriel and Constance,--it seems horrible to set it down
thus before my poor eyes,--they love one another.
And now let me be very careful, very just and true.


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