She had spoken with a strange, unexpected emotion, and she went on in the same tone: I can'tI can'twhile she lies there. It isn't decent.
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No, it isn't decent, I replied, gravely. Let the poor lady rest in peace. And the words, on my lips, were not hypocritical, for I felt reprimanded and shamed.
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Miss Tita added in a moment, as if she had guessed this and were sorry for me, but at the same time wished to explain that I did drive her on or at least did insist too much: I can't deceive her that way. I can't deceive herperhaps on her deathbed.
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Heaven forbid I should ask you, though I have been guilty myself!
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I have sailed under false colours. I felt now as if I must tell her that I had given her an invented name, on account of my fear that her aunt would have heard of me and would refuse to take me in. I explained this and also that I had really been a party to the letter written to them by John Cumnor months before.
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She listened with great attention, looking at me with parted lips, and when I had made my confession she said, Then your real namewhat is it? She repeated it over twice when I had told her, accompanying it with the exclamation Gracious, gracious! Then she added, I like your own best.
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So do I, I said, laughing. Ouf! it's a relief to get rid of the other.
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So it was a regular plota kind of conspiracy?
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Oh, a conspiracywe were only two, I replied, leaving out Mrs. Prest of course.
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She hesitated; I thought she was perhaps going to say that we had been very base. But she remarked after a moment, in a candid, wondering way, How much you must want them!
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Oh, I do, passionately! I conceded, smiling. And this chance made me go on, forgetting my compunction of a moment before. How can she possibly have changed their place herself? How can she walk? How can she arrive at that sort of muscular exertion? How can she lift and carry things?
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Oh, when one wants and when one has so much will! said Miss Tita, as if she had thought over my question already
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