My work will keep me very busy, and, I think, happy. I mean it
shall. But, Jerry--I want something. You know you have always known me,
because I was Hester's friend."
"Is this 'straight to the point'?" he asked, and there was a gleam of
fun in his eyes, though his lips were sober. But his interest was
unmistakable.
"Very straight. But we have never been special friends, you and I."
"Haven't we? I congratulated myself we had."
"Not what I mean by that word." She sat looking into the fire for some
little time, while he remained motionless, watching her, his eyes shaded
by his hand. At length she said very earnestly, still staring fireward,
while her cheeks took on a slight access of colour:
"I want to feel I have a friend--one friend--a real one, whom I leave
behind me here--who will understand me and write to me, and whom I can
count on--differently from the way I count on other friends."
He was studying her absorbedly. There came into his eyes a peculiar look
as she made her frank statement.
"Then you haven't just that sort of a friend among all the men you know
at home?"
"Not a single one.
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