Nor truly did she at the moment see what more could be said.

Where all relation has been perverted, things can not be set right by force.
Perhaps all we can do sometimes is to be willing and wait.
The letter was dictated and written--a lovely one, Mary thought--and it made her weep as she wrote it.

Tom signed it with his own hand.

Mary folded, sealed, addressed it, and laid it away in her desk.
The same evening Tom said to Letty, putting his thin, long hand in hers-- "Mary thinks we shall know each other there, Letty." "Tom!" interrupted Letty, "don't talk like that; I _can't_ bear it.

If you do, I shall die before you." "All I wanted to say," persisted Tom, "was, that I should sit all day looking out for you, Letty.".