r of sleeves altogether. She has sent
me her latest photograph, and the eyes are all I need. Of
course, I have no such brilliant future to sacrifice, but if
I had, I am sure I should throw a dozen of them over the
windmill for two eyes like hers to-day!

I don't know why I am prosing along at this rate and
avoiding the main object of this letter. I must plunge right
into it, I suppose, and get it over.

Don't think I don't appreciate all your kind, your generous,
offer meant, Jerry. I thought of it so often and so long
before I gave you that brusque answer. And it tempted me for
a moment--indeed it did. I think, as you say, that we could
travel very comfortably together and we have many of the
same tastes--I know no one so sympathetic as you. As for
"nursing a rheumatic, middle-aged wanderer through assorted
winter-climates," that is absurd, and you know it, though I
should be glad enough to do it, if it _were_ true, as far as
that goes. I know all you would do for the children, and how
kind you would be to them. Not that I like that part,
though, to be quite frank. I could never love another
woman's children (especially if I loved their father) and I
can't understand the women that do. So I always imagine a
man in the same position. And I can't help feeling, Jerry,
that if you _really_ loved me--loved me in the whole crazy
sense of that dreadful world, I mean--that you wouldn't
speak so sweetly about the children: how could you? How can
any man--I couldn't, if I were one!

But this is very unfair, because you never said you did love
me in that way--don't imagine that I thought so for a
moment. Jerry dear, my best friend now, for I must not count
on Roger any more, do you think I am blind? Do you think I
have been blind for three years? And will you think me a
romantic, conceited fool when I say that unless I--even I, a
widow and a jilt, who hurt a good man terribly and got well
punished for it!--can have the kind of love that you can
never give me, because you gave it to someone else three
years ago, I don't want to accept your generous kindness?
You see, I know how you can love, Jerry, just as I see now
that I never knew how Roger could until those same three
years ago. Of course he didn't either--would he ever have