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 "Oh, Jenny, if only you could be mine!"

She nestled closer in his arms and whispered: "Why not?"

His arms closed tight about her shoulders and her waist, but she trembled the instant she had said it. She did not know why she was afraid; she did not want to be, and she repented of having made a movement, as if she wished to get out of his passionate embrace, and he let her go.

"No, no; I know it is impossible."

"I would like you to," she said humbly.

He kissed her: "I know. But I must not. Thank you for everything. Oh, Jenny, my Jenny! Good-night! Thank you for loving me!"

The tears streamed down her cheeks as she lay in bed. She tried to tell herself that there was no sense in crying like that, as if something were gone for ever.