It's--it's the sort of thing that is too
sacred to share with any one, even any one that I think as much of as I
do of you--but I've got to make you believe that, five minutes
beforehand, I had no idea it was going to occur." And as briefly and
honestly as he could, he told Thomas how Sylvia had come to him while he
was making his bonfire, and what had taken place afterwards. Then, with
still greater feeling in his voice, he went on: "There's something else I
haven't told any one else either, and that is, that I can't for a single
instant get away from the thought that, even now, I'm not going to get
her. I know I haven't any right to her and I don't feel sure that I can
make her happy--that she can respect me as much as a girl ought to respect
the man she's going to marry. I certainly don't think I'm any worthier of
her than you--or as worthy--never did for a minute. I _have_ done lots of
rotten things, and you've always been as straight as a string--and you'd
better thank the Lord you have! When you get engaged you won't have to go
through what I have! But you see the difference is, as far as Sylvia and
you and I are concerned"--he hesitated, his throat growing rough, his
ready eloquence checked--"Sylvia likes you ever so much; she thinks
you're a fine boy, and that by and by you'll want to marry a fine girl;
but I'm a man already, and young as she is, Sylvia's a woman--and God
knows why--she loves me!"
Austin glanced at Thomas.
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