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The Bell in the Fog and Other Stories by Gertrude Franklin Horn Atherton
page 32 of 213 (15%)
To his surprise, but unutterable delight, she burst into tears and flung
herself into his arms.

"You need not leave me," he said, when he could find his own voice. "You
can stay here always and be my little girl. It all rests with you."

"I can't stay," she sobbed. "I can't!"

"And that is what made you so sad once or twice?" he asked, with a
double eagerness.

She made no reply.

"Oh!" he said, passionately, "give me your confidence, Blanche. You are
the only breathing thing that I love."

"If I could I would," she said. "But I don't know--not quite."

"How much do you know?"

But she sobbed again and would not answer. He dared not risk too much.
After all, the physical barrier between the past and the present was
very young.

"Well, well, then, we will talk about the other matter. I will not
pretend to disguise the fact that your mother is distressed at the idea
of parting from you, and thinks it would be as sad for your brothers
and sisters, whom she says you influence for their good. Do you think
that you do?"

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