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Freeman, R. Austin (Richard Austin), 1862-1943

"The Vanishing Man"

Hardly any. No, Paul; it is hopeless, and I can't
bear to talk about it. Let me go now. Let us say good-bye here and see
one another no more for a while. Perhaps we may be friends again some
day--when you have forgiven me."
"Forgiven you, dearest!" I exclaimed. "There is nothing to forgive. And
we are friends, Ruth. Whatever happens, you are the dearest friend I
have on earth, or can ever have."
"Thank you, Paul," she said faintly. "You are very good to me. But let
me go, please. I must go. I must be alone."
She held out a trembling hand, and, as I took it, I was shocked to see
how terribly agitated and ill she looked.
"May I not come with you, dear?" I pleaded.
"No, no!" she exclaimed breathlessly; "I must go away by myself. I want
to be alone. Good-bye!"
"Before I let you go, Ruth--if you must go--I must have a solemn promise
from you."
Her sad grey eyes met mine and her lips quivered with an unspoken
question.
"You must promise me," I went on, "that if ever this barrier that parts
us should be removed, you will let me know instantly.


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