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Alma-Tadema, Laurence, 1865?-1940

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

I suffered most at the dawning of my fears. Now that I know
the worst, I can strain my endurance to the requisite point.
Besides, it cannot last. The more I think of it, the more natural it
seems to me that they should thus forget themselves, for a while;
have I not myself been foolish over both? The fault, too, is mine; I
brought them together; they are not to blame.
Some day I shall laugh at all this; and it is really endurable, even
now. The thing is to brace oneself sufficiently, to the exact point.
It seems to me I keep saying the same thing over and over again; but
it is so necessary to keep it in mind.

_June 25th._--Gabriel is not well. I noticed it a day or two ago.
This afternoon he came to fetch Constance and me for a walk; it had
been so warm that we thought we would walk after tea. And instead of
walking, we stayed in the garden. Mrs. Rayner--thank mercy!--was out
driving with grandmamma and Uncle George.
We stayed in the garden, and idled through the hours; we each had a
book, but I doubt that we read a dozen pages between us. Nor did we
talk much; every now and then we fell to talking, but the pauses had
the best of it.


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