Now the secret hear. Do you remember all the books I read Two years ago upon heredity, Foot-notes to evolution, the dynamics Of living matter? Well, it wasn't that That made me save this fellow. There you smile For knowing how and when I got these books, Who woke my interest in them. Never mind, You don't know yet my reasons. But I'll tell you: And let you see a governor's mind at work. When this young lawyer in this affidavit Read to a certain place my mind strayed off And lived a time past, you were present too. It was that morning when I passed my crisis, Had just dodged death, could scarcely speak, too weak To lift a hand to feed myself, but needed Vital replenishment of strength, and then I got it in a bowl of oyster soup, Rich cream at that. And as I live, my dear, As this young lawyer read, I felt myself In bed as I lay then, re-lived the weakness, Could see the spoon that carried to my mouth The appetizing soup, imagined there The feelings I had then of getting fingers Upon the rail of life again, how faint, But with such clear degrees. Could see the hand That held the spoon, the eyes that looked at me In triumph for the victory of my strength, Which battled, almost lost the prize of life. It all came over me when this lawyer read: Elenor Murray lately come from France Found dead beside the river, was the cousin Of this Fred Taylor, and had planned to come To see the governor, death prevented her-- Suppose it had? That affidavit, doubtless Was read to me to move me for the fact This man was kindred to a woman who Served in the war, this lawyer was that cheap! And isn't it as cheap to think that I Could be persuaded by the circumstance That Elenor Murray, she who nursed me once, Was cousin to this fellow, if this lawyer Knew this, and did he know it? I don't know. Had Elenor Murray lived she would have come To ask her cousin's life--I know her heart. And at the last, I think this was the thing: I thought I'd do exactly what I'd do If she had lived and asked me, disregard Her death, and act as if she lived, repay Her dead hands, which in life had saved my life. Now, dear, your eyes have tears--I know--believe me, I had no romance with this Elenor Murray. Good Lord, it's one o'clock, I must to bed....