He is to me scarcely more than a name, an unhappy memory.

I told you that frankly when I believed him still alive.

We were friends then, you and I, and I cannot conceive why his death should sever our friendship." "Nor has it," I interposed instantly.

"It was not indifference which silenced me.

Rather it was the very strength of my feeling toward you.
I was fearful of saying too much, of being too precipitate." "You imagine I would fail to value your friendship at such a time ?" "Don't," I burst forth impetuously; "you talk of friendship when all my hope centers about another term.