The burden you have
borne so long I shall take now upon my shoulders."
He seemed so confident, so sure. I could bear it no
longer. "Ernst, if you have any pity, any love for me,
stop! I tell you I can never do this. Why do you make
it so terribly hard for me! So pitilessly hard! You
always have been so strong, so sure, such a staff of
courage."
"I say again, and again, and again, you do not care."
It was then that I took my last vestige of strength
and courage together and going over to him, put my two
hands on his great shoulders, looking up into his drawn
face as I spoke.
"Ernst, look at me! You never can know how much I
care. I care so much that I could not bear to have the
shadow of wrong fall upon our happiness. There can be no
lasting happiness upon a foundation of shameful deceit.
I should hate myself, and you would grow to hate me. It
always is so. Dear one, I care so much that I have the
strength to do as I would do if I had to face my mother,
and Norah tonight. I don't ask you to understand. Men
are not made to understand these things; not
even a man such as you, who are so beautifully
understanding. I only ask that you believe in me--and
think of me sometimes--I shall feel it, and be helped.
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