"
"I believe you are right. One life is about enough for most of us. Memory
is all very fine; but you'd want a life set apart for remembering the
others after awhile."
"Why do you not add, 'And that would bore one?' Most of the men I know
would say so."
"Well, I never used the word that way in my life. When I don't like a
thing, that ends it--it has got to go."
"You cannot do that with everything."
"Pretty much, if I set my mind to it. It is astonishing how things'll
come round your way if you keep on thinking and willing them so."
"Have you always got everything you wanted?" He had been looking off into
the grounds through the open window. Now he turned slowly upon her.
"So far I have got everything I set my mind to get. Little things don't
count. You lose them sometimes because you want to work at something
else; sometimes because, as in cards, you are throwing a few away to save
the whole game."
He looked at her, as she thought, curiously. In his mind he was wondering
if she knew that he had made up his mind to marry her. She was suddenly
made aware of the masterfulness of his spirit, which might, she knew, be
applied to herself.
"Let us go into the grounds," he added, all at once. Soon after, in the
shade of the trees, she broke in upon the thread of their casual
conversation. "A few moments ago," she murmured, "you said: 'One life is
about enough for most of us.
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