He had
looked only at me.
"Why--it's _the_ picture! And--Gee!"--his eyes travelled round the
room--"all my dear old things! What a mother I've got!" He gazed about
during a full minute of silence, then turned abruptly back to me. "You
love her--don't you?"
"Who could help loving her?"
"And the dear old Governor--you're fond of him?"
"I should be even worse than I am, if I didn't adore them both. They
have been--angels to me and my brother."
"I'm told that you and he have been something of the same sort to them."
"Oh, they would speak kindly of us, of course!--They're so noble,
themselves, they judge----"
"It was another person who told me the particular thing I'm thinking of
now."
"Another person? Doctor Paul, I suppose."
"You must guess again, Miss O'Malley."
"I can't think of any one else who would----"
"What about your friend, Mr. O'Farrell?"
"He's not my friend!" I cried. "Oh, I _knew_ he'd somehow contrive a
chance to talk to you alone, about me!"
"He certainly did. And what he said impressed me a good deal."
"Most likely it's untrue."
"_Too_ likely! I'm very anxious to find out from headquarters if it's
true or not."
"If you ask me, I'll answer honestly. I can't and won't lie to you."
"I'll take you at your word and ask you--in a minute. You may be angry
when I do. But--it will save time. It'll clear up all my difficulties at
one fell swoop."
"Why wait a minute, then?" I ventured, with faint bitterness, because
_his_ "difficulties" seemed so small compared with mine.
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