If she had not won
this victory now, she could never have done so in the days ahead. This
hour made possible the other hours of pouring out his heart to her,
taking her into it all. He told her the story of how it happened, the
long, hard story which only covered days, but seemed to extend through
years. He told of those hours of the day and night on the rack of
uncertainty, of trying with the force of mind and soul to banish that
thing which had not claimed him then, but stood there beside him, not
retreating,--waiting. He told her of that lecture hour Monday morning
when he literally divided himself into two parts, one part of him giving
the lecture, giving it just as well as he had ever done, the other part
battling with the phantom which he would vanquish or surrender to within
an hour. And her only cry was: "You should have told me! You should have
told me from the first!" And once he answered: "No, dear--no; before I
knew I did not want to frighten you, and after--oh, Ernestine, believe
me, sweetheart, I would have shielded you forever, no matter at what cost
to myself--if only I could have done it!"
At last he had finished the story.
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