"
Mavis was sick with happiness; she wondered what she had done to get
so much allotted to her. All her struggles to earn a living in
London, the insults to which she had been subjected, the disquiet
that had troubled her mind throughout the spring, were all as
forgotten as if they had never been. There was not a cloud upon the
horizon of her joy.
As if to grasp her present ecstasy with both hands, she, with no
inconsiderable effort, recalled all the more unhappy incidents in
her life, to make believe that she was still enduring these, and
that there was no prospect of escape from their defiling recurrence.
She then fell to imagining how envious she would be were she
acquainted with a happy Mavis Keeves who, in three days' time, was
to belong, for all time, to the man of her choice.
It was with inexpressible joy that she presently permitted herself
to realise that it was none other than she upon whom this great gift
of happiness unspeakable had been bestowed. The rapture born of this
blissful realisation impelled her to seek expression in words.
"Life is great and noble," she cried; "but love is greater."
Every nerve in her body vibrated with ecstasy.
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