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Moore, George (George Augustus), 1852-1933

"Sister Teresa"

This morning, when my valet told me there were no
letters, I turned aside in bed to weep, and I think I must have lain
crying for hours, thinking how I had lost my friend, the girl whom I
met in Dulwich, whom I took to Paris, the singer whose art I had
watched over. It was a long time before I could get out of bed and
dress myself, and during breakfast tears came into my eyes; it was
provoking, for my servant was looking at me. You know how long he
has been with me, so, yielding to the temptation to tell somebody, I
told him; I had to speak to somebody, and I think he was sorry for
me, and for you. But he is a well-bred servant, and said very
little, thinking it better to leave the room on the first
opportunity.
"Merat, who brought your letter, told me you said I would understand
why it was necessary for you to go to a convent for rest. Well, in a
way, I do understand, and, in a way, I am glad you are going, for at
all events your decision puts an end to the strife that has been
going on between us now for the last three years. It was first
difficult for me to believe, but I have become reconciled to the
belief that you will never be happy except in a chaste life.


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