The simile started a laugh in his throat. Perhaps some one had kissed the brow that was now so cadaverous, rubbed that sunken cheek with loving fingers, held that stringy neck with passionately living hands. There must be something, one feels, in ideas that achieve persistently a successful resurrection. . I can esteem him, regard him; but, love him as he ought to be loved—that I cannot do. But when he looked again, there she was! "I don't understand," he said, finally.
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