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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"Mary Marston"


But Hesper would not laugh, and her perfect calmness checked the
laughter which would have been Sepia's natural response: she was
careful not to go too far.
"Do you know, Hesper," she said, with seriousness, "what is the
matter with you?"
"Tolerably well," answered Hesper.
"You do not--let me tell you. You are nothing but a baby yet. You
have no heart."
"If you mean that I have never been in love, you are right. But
you talk foolishly; for you know that love is no more within my
reach than if I were the corpse I feel."
Sepia pressed her lips together, and nodded knowingly; then,
after a moment's pause, said:
"When your hour is come, you will understand. Every woman's hour
comes, one time or another--whether she will or not."
"Sepia, if you think that, because I hate my husband, I would
allow another man to make love to me, you do not know me yet."
"I know you very well; you do not know yourself, Hesper; you do
not know the heart of a woman--because your own has never come
awake yet."
"God forbid it ever should, then--so long as--as the man I hate
is alive!"
Sepia laughed.
"A good prayer," she said; "for who can tell what you might do to
him!"
"Sepia, I sometimes think you are a devil."
"And I sometimes think you are a saint."
"What do you take me for the other times?"
"A hypocrite. What do _you_ take _me_ for the other
times?"
"No hypocrite," answered Hesper.


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