You cannot realize it. There are few moments, night
or day, in which your face is not before me--few moments in which I do
not hear your voice. Last night I dreamed that you stood before me with
outstretched arms and called me. I went to you, and you clasped me in
your arms. You said, 'My darling wife, it has all been a mistake--a
terrible mistake--and I am come to ask your pardon and to take you
home.' In my dream, Norman, you kissed my face, my lips, my hands, and
called me by every loving name you could invent. You were so kind to me,
and I was so happy. And the dream was so vivid, Norman, that even after
I awoke I believed it to be reality. Then I heard the sobbing of the
waves on the beach, and I cried out, 'Norman, Norman!' thinking you were
still near me; but there was no reply. It was only the silence that
roused me to a full sense that my happiness was a dream. There was no
husband with kind words and tender kisses. I thought my heart would have
broken. And then I said to myself that I could live no longer without
making an effort once more to change your decision. Oh, Norman, for my
sake, do not send me back to utter desolation and despair! Do not send
me back to coldness and darkness, to sorrow and tears.
Pages:
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345