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"
Do
you
remember
,
"
he
said
and
under
the
spell
of
his
voice
the
bare
walls
of
the
little
office
faded
and
the
years
rolled
aside
and
they
were
riding
country
bridle
paths
together
in
a
long-gone
spring
.
As
he
spoke
,
his
light
grip
tightened
on
her
hand
and
in
his
voice
was
the
sad
magic
of
old
half-forgotten
songs
.
She
could
hear
the
gay
jingle
of
bridle
bits
as
they
rode
under
the
dogwood
trees
to
the
Tarletons
'
picnic
,
hear
her
own
careless
laughter
,
see
the
sun
glinting
on
his
silver-gilt
hair
and
note
the
proud
easy
grace
with
which
he
sat
his
horse
.
There
was
music
in
his
voice
,
the
music
of
fiddles
and
banjos
to
which
they
had
danced
in
the
white
house
that
was
no
more
.
There
was
the
far-off
yelping
of
possum
dogs
in
the
dark
swamp
under
cool
autumn
moons
and
the
smell
of
eggnog
bowls
,
wreathed
with
holly
at
Christmas
time
and
smiles
on
black
and
white
faces
.
And
old
friends
came
trooping
back
,
laughing
as
though
they
had
not
been
dead
these
many
years
:
Stuart
and
Brent
with
their
long
legs
and
their
red
hair
and
their
practical
jokes
,
Tom
and
Boyd
as
wild
as
young
horses
,
Joe
Fontaine
with
his
hot
black
eyes
,
and
Cade
and
Raiford
Calvert
who
moved
with
such
languid
grace
.
There
was
John
Wilkes
,
too
;
and
Gerald
,
red
with
brandy
;
and
a
whisper
and
a
fragrance
that
was
Ellen
.
Over
it
all
rested
a
sense
of
security
,
a
knowledge
that
tomorrow
could
only
bring
the
same
happiness
today
had
brought
.
His
voice
stopped
and
they
looked
for
a
long
quiet
moment
into
each
other
's
eyes
and
between
them
lay
the
sunny
lost
youth
that
they
had
so
unthinkingly
shared
.
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"
Now
I
know
why
you
ca
n't
be
happy
,
"
she
thought
sadly
.
"
I
never
understood
before
.
I
never
understood
before
why
I
was
n't
altogether
happy
either
.
But
--
why
,
we
are
talking
like
old
people
talk
!
"
she
thought
with
dreary
surprise
.
"
Old
people
looking
back
fifty
years
.
And
we
're
not
old
!
It
's
just
that
so
much
has
happened
in
between
.
Everything
's
changed
so
much
that
it
seems
like
fifty
years
ago
.
But
we
're
not
old
!
"
But
when
she
looked
at
Ashley
he
was
no
longer
young
and
shining
.
His
head
was
bowed
as
he
looked
down
absently
at
her
hand
which
he
still
held
and
she
saw
that
his
once
bright
hair
was
very
gray
,
silver
gray
as
moonlight
on
still
water
.
Somehow
the
bright
beauty
had
gone
from
the
April
afternoon
and
from
her
heart
as
well
and
the
sad
sweetness
of
remembering
was
as
bitter
as
gall
.
"
I
should
n't
have
let
him
make
me
look
back
,
"
she
thought
despairingly
.
"
I
was
right
when
I
said
I
'd
never
look
back
.
It
hurts
too
much
,
it
drags
at
your
heart
till
you
ca
n't
ever
do
anything
else
except
look
back
.
That
's
what
's
wrong
with
Ashley
.
He
ca
n't
look
forward
any
more
.
He
ca
n't
see
the
present
,
he
fears
the
future
,
and
so
he
looks
back
.
I
never
understood
it
before
.
I
never
understood
Ashley
before
.
Oh
,
Ashley
,
my
darling
,
you
should
n't
look
back
!
What
good
will
it
do
?
I
should
n't
have
let
you
tempt
me
into
talking
of
the
old
days
.
This
is
what
happens
when
you
look
back
to
happiness
,
this
pain
,
this
heartbreak
,
this
discontent
.
"
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She
rose
to
her
feet
,
her
hand
still
in
his
.
She
must
go
.
She
could
not
stay
and
think
of
the
old
days
and
see
his
face
,
tired
and
sad
and
bleak
as
it
now
was
.
"
We
've
come
a
long
way
since
those
days
,
Ashley
,
"
she
said
,
trying
to
steady
her
voice
,
trying
to
fight
the
constriction
in
her
throat
.
"
We
had
fine
notions
then
,
did
n't
we
?
"
And
then
,
with
a
rush
,
"
Oh
,
Ashley
,
nothing
has
turned
out
as
we
expected
!
"
"
It
never
does
,
"
he
said
.
"
Life
's
under
no
obligation
to
give
us
what
we
expect
.
We
take
what
we
get
and
are
thankful
it
's
no
worse
than
it
is
.
"