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I think I could make you happy.

No.

I am afraid being happy is something you don’t know very much about.

No.

It is n’t a thing that I am going to hurry you over, my dear, but neither is it a thing that I am going to give up hoping for.

When you told me, that day, that Mrs. Jordan had left me all her money, I could n’t understand; then, afterwards, you gave me the letter she left for me. I want you to read it.

What has her letter to do with us?

Maybe, reading it, you ’ll get to know something you ’ve got a right to know, better than I could tell it to you.

Very well.

It ’s here. (She opens drawer, and selects a letter in a woman’s old-fashioned handwriting, from a large envelope of papers) She was a cold woman, Judge. She never let me get close to her, although I tried. She did n’t love me. I was as sure of it then as I am now. (She holds out the letter) Read it.