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Augusta, Clara, 1839-1905

"The Fatal Glove"

I remember it with bitter remorse. We parted
in anger, Margie, and she died without my forgiveness and blessing. It
was very hard, but perhaps, at the last, she did not suffer. I will
believe so."
"If she sinned, it was through love of you, Archer, and that should make
you very forgiving toward her."
"I have forgiven her long ago. I know the proofs were strong against me.
I am not sure but that they were sufficient to have convicted me of
murder in a court of law. You were conscious of my presence that night
in the graveyard, Margie?"
"Yes. I thought it was you. I knew no other man's presence had the power
to thrill and impress me as yours did."
"I meant to impress you, Margaret. I brought all the strength of my will
to bear on that object. I said to myself, she shall know that I am near
her, and yet my visible presence shall not be revealed to her. And now,
can you guess why I was there?"
"Hardly."
"Love ought to tell you."
"It might tell me wrong."
"No, Margie. Never! You know that I have loved you from the moment I saw
you first, and though for a long, long time I never dared to think you
would ever be to me anything more than a bright, beautiful vision, to be
worshipped afar off, yet it agonized me to think of giving you up to
another.


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