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Wharton, Edith, 1862-1937

"Summer"

...
At length this feeling moved her to sudden action. She took a sheet of
letter paper from Mr. Royall's office, and sitting by the kitchen
lamp, one night after Verena had gone to bed, began her first letter to
Harney. It was very short:

I want you should marry Annabel Balch if you promised to. I think maybe
you were afraid I'd feel too bad about it. I feel I'd rather you acted
right. Your loving CHARITY.

She posted the letter early the next morning, and for a few days her
heart felt strangely light. Then she began to wonder why she received no
answer.
One day as she sat alone in the library pondering these things the walls
of books began to spin around her, and the rosewood desk to rock under
her elbows. The dizziness was followed by a wave of nausea like that she
had felt on the day of the exercises in the Town Hall. But the Town Hall
had been crowded and stiflingly hot, and the library was empty, and so
chilly that she had kept on her jacket. Five minutes before she had felt
perfectly well; and now it seemed as if she were going to die.


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