I never forgot it--never.

It did me more good than I can tell.

And that scar on her poor arm--her dear little tender arm;--how this morning I would have given all the world to--" He broke off--instinctively, as it were--with the sort of feeling every good man has, that the sacred passion, the inmost tenderness of his love, should be kept wholly between himself and the woman he has chosen.
I knew that too; knew that in his heart had grown up a secret, a necessity, a desire, stronger than any friendship--closer than the closest bond of brotherly love.

Perhaps--I hardly know why--I sighed.
John turned round--"Phineas, you must not think--because of this--which you will understand for yourself, I hope, one day; you must not think I could ever think less, or feel less, about my brother." He spoke earnestly, with a full heart.

We clasped hands warmly and silently.