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Stoker, Bram, 1847-1912

"The Man"


One other alternative there was; but it seemed so remote, so far-
fetched, so noble, so unlike what a woman would do, that she could
only regard it in a shamefaced way. She put the matter to herself
questioningly, and with a meekness which had its roots deeper than
she knew. And here out of the depths of her humility came a noble
thought. A noble thought, which was a noble truth. Through the
darkness of the night, through the inky gloom of her own soul came
with that thought a ray of truth which, whilst it showed her her own
shrivelled unworthiness, made the man whom she had dishonoured with
insults worse than death stand out in noble relief. In that instant
she guessed at, and realised, Harold's unselfish nobility of purpose,
the supreme effort of his constant love. Knowing the humiliation she
must have suffered at Leonard's hands, he had so placed himself that
even her rejection of him might be some solace to her wounded spirit,
her pride.
Here at last was truth! She knew it in the very marrow of her bones.


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