Report books

It must keep on being almost.
Isn't almost pretty pleasant? You know well enough that I care for
you. I did from the first minute I saw you, and I'm pretty sure you
knew it--I'm afraid you did. I'm afraid you always knew it. I'm not
conventional and cautious about being engaged, as you say I am, dear.
(I always read over the "dears" in your letters a time or two, as you
say you do in mine--only I read all of your letters a time or two!)
But it's such a solemn thing it scares me. It means a good deal to a
lot of people besides you and me, and that scares me, too. You write
that I take your feeling for me "too lightly" and that I "take the
whole affair too lightly." Isn't that odd! Because to myself I seem
to take it as something so much more solemn than you do. I shouldn't
be a bit surprised to find myself an old lady, some day, still
thinking of you--while you'd be away and away with somebody else
perhaps, and me forgotten ages ago! "Lucy Morgan," you'd say, when
you saw my obituary. "Lucy Morgan? Let me see: I seem to remember the
name.


Pages:
186 187 188 189 190 191 192 193 194 195 196 197 198 199 200 201 202 203 204 205 206 207 208 209 210