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Dell, Ethel M. (Ethel May), 1881-1939

"Greatheart"

"If I were to attempt what you suggest," he said
slowly, "I should deprive her of the only friend to whom she can turn
with any confidence besides yourself. She trusts me now implicitly. She
believes my friendship for her to be absolutely simple and disinterested.
And I would rather die than fail her."
"Then you think she doesn't care?" Isabel said.
Scott turned his eyes upon her. "Personally, I came to that conclusion
long ago," he said. "No woman could ever hang a serious romance around
me, Isabel. I am not the right sort. If Dinah imagined for a moment that
I were capable of making love in the ordinary way, our friendship would
go to the bottom forthwith. No, my dear; put the thought out of your
mind! The Stumpys of this world must be resigned to go unpaired. They
must content themselves with the outer husk. It's that or nothing."
Isabel's smile was full of tenderness. "You talk as one who knows," she
said. "But I wonder if you do."
"Oh yes," Scott said. "I've learned my lesson. I've been given an
ordinary soul in an extraordinary body, and I've got to make the best of
it. You can't ignore the body, you know, Isabel. It plays a mighty big
part in this mortal life. The idea of any woman falling in love with me
in my present human tenement is ridiculous, and I have put it out of my
mind for good."
Isabel's eyes were shining. She clasped his hand closer.


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