You see, it never occurred to me to
question Dick's identity. Any change in him seemed to
me just the result of the accident.
"Oh, Anne, that night in April when Gilbert told me he
thought Dick might be cured! I can never forget it.
It seemed to me that I had once been a prisoner in a
hideous cage of torture, and then the door had been
opened and I could get out. I was still chained to the
cage but I was not in it. And that night I felt that a
merciless hand was drawing me back into the cage--back
to a torture even more terrible than it had once been.
I didn't blame Gilbert. I felt he was right. And he
had been very good--he said that if, in view of the
expense and uncertainty of the operation, I should
decide not to risk it, he would not blame me in the
least. But I knew how I ought to decide--and I
couldn't face it. All night I walked the floor like a
mad woman, trying to compel myself to face it. I
couldn't, Anne--I thought I couldn't--and when morning
broke I set my teeth and resolved that I WOULDN'T. I
would let things remain as they were.
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