The Diary of Dewdrop | ||
Two Days Later
To-day, he placed a scroll where the flowers were. How could I resist taking it in? I did so, laying it flat on the floor, as my shaking hands would have made it impossible to read it otherwise.
It was a poem. My beauty, grace, goodness, virtue, was its theme.
I piteously besought Madame Summer tolet me keep it. But, on the threat that she would tell everything to mystepfather otherwise, I was forced to relinquish this treasure also to her. Sherelentlessly replaced it. She says he will understand now, as he has beenrefused twice.
“But once more,” I encourage myself, “yes, three times, of course, he must ask me.”
The Diary of Dewdrop | ||