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perhaps sometimes—I have felt it myself when I have reached a
step nearer my goal, but as a rule it is only the abnormal beings
who amass riches for any other purpose than spending. A
woman’s life is useless to my mind if she is not the joy of
somebody else—and I have never been that—I have only
caused sorrow. The little happiness I have been able to give
was only what any one else could have given just as well;
they have loved me only for what they imagined me to be, not
for my real self.
"After my baby’s death I began to realize how fortunate it
was that there was nobody in the world whom I could cause a
really inconsolable grief—nobody to whom I was
indispensable.
"And now you tell me all this. You have always been the
one person I least of all wanted to drag into my confused life;
I have always been more fond of you, in a way, than of any
one else I know. I enjoyed our friendship so much, because I
thought that love and all it brings in its train could never come
between us. You were too good for it, I thought. Oh, how I
wish it had never changed!"
"To me it seems now that it has never been different," he
said gently. "I love you and you need me. I know I can
make you happy again, and when I have done that you will
have made me happy."
Jenny shook her head:
"If I had the least bit of faith in myself left, it would be
different. I might have listened to you if I had not felt so
keenly that I have done with life. You say you love me, but I
know that what you think you love in me is destroyed—dead.
It is the same old story: you are in love with some quality you
dream that I possess—that I have before or might have
acquired. But one day you would see me as I really am, and I
should only have made you unhappy too."
"I should never look upon it as unhappiness whatever my
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