Am I good enough
for you, Ellen? answer me."
But she would not yet answer. So I went on.
"I killed Gordon Orme myself, in fair fight; but he wrote this of his
own free will. He himself told me it would be proof. Is it proof?"
She put the paper gently to one side of her on the long seat. "I do not
need it," she said. "If it came to question of proof, we have learned
much of these matters, my father and I, since we last met you. But I
have never needed it; not even that night we said good-by. Ah! how I
wanted you back after you had gone!"
"And your father?" I asked of her, my hand falling on hers.
"He knows as much as I. Lately he has heard from your friend, Doctor
Bond--we have both learned a great many things. We are sorry. I am
sorry. I have _always_ been sorry."
"But what more?" I asked. "Ellen!"
She put out her hands in a sort of terror. "Don't," she said. "I have
put all this away for so long that now--I can't begin again. I can't! I
can't! I am afraid. Do not ask me. Do not. No--no!"
She started from the seat as though she would have fled in a swift
panic. But now I caught her.
"Stop!" I exclaimed, rage in all my heart. "I've been a fool long
enough, and now I will have no more of foolishness.
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