Ransom came out to see me once, at Cambridge, a little while before we
went to New York. He spent a couple of hours with me; we took a walk
together and saw the colleges. It was after that that he wrote to
me--when I answered his letter, as I told you in New York. I didn't tell
you then of his visit. We had a great deal of talk about him, and I kept
that back. I did so on purpose; I can't explain why, except that I
didn't like to tell you, and that I thought it better. But now I want
you to know everything; when you know that, you _will_ know everything.
It was only one visit--about two hours. I enjoyed it very much--he
seemed so much interested. One reason I didn't tell you was that I
didn't want you to know that he had come on to Boston, and called on me
in Cambridge, without going to see you. I thought it might affect you
disagreeably. I suppose you will think I deceived you; certainly I left
you with a wrong impression. But now I want you to know all--all!"
Verena spoke with breathless haste and eagerness; there was a kind of
passion in the way she tried to expiate her former want of candour.
Olive listened, staring; at first she seemed scarcely to understand. But
Verena perceived that she understood sufficiently when she broke out:
"You deceived me--you deceived me! Well, I must say I like your deceit
better than such dreadful revelations! And what does anything matter
when he has come after you now? What does he want--what has he come
for?"
"He has come to ask me to be his wife.
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