"Waking
dreams--sleeping dreams. They've seemed as real--almost as real--as
this."
"Did I kiss you like this, in the dreams?"
"Sometimes. But not in the realest ones. It never seemed real that you
could care, in spite of all--that you'd forgive me, if you should come
back----"
"Did you want me to come?"
"Oh, 'want' isn't the word to express it!"
"Even though you dreaded--being found out!"
"That didn't count, against having you alive, and knowing you were in
the world--if only for your parents' sake. I wanted them to be happy,
more than I wanted anything for myself except Brian's good. I had you
for my own, in my dreams, while you were dead, and I expected to lose
you if you were alive. But----"
"You really expected that?"
"Oh, indeed, yes!"
"Although you knew from Mother how I'd loved you, and searched for you?"
"You thought I was _good_--then."
"I think so now."
"But you can't! You know what a wicked, wicked wretch I was! Why, when
you came into this room and looked at me, I _saw_ how you felt! And your
letter----"
"Don't you understand, I was testing you? If you hadn't cared for me,
what you did might have been--(only 'might', mind you, for what man can
judge a girl's heart?) what you did to my people _might_ have been cruel
and calculating. I had to find out the truth of things, before letting
myself go. The letter was written to let a stranger see--if you turned
out to be a stranger--what to expect.
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