James
I ignored this letter, but a heavy fear oppressed me. Liu Kanghi, who called the evening of the day I received it, remarked as he arose to greet me that I was looking troubled, and hoped that it was not the embroidery flowers.
“It is the shadow from my big hat,” I answered lightly. I was dressed for going down town with Mrs. Liu who was preparing her eldest daughter’s trousseau.
“Some day,” said Liu Kanghi earnestly, “I hope that you will tell to me all that is in your heart and mind.”
I found comfort in his kind face.
“If you will wait until I return, I will tell you all tonight,” I answered.
Strange as it may seem, although I had known Liu Kanghi now for more than a year, I had had little talk alone with him, and all he knew about me was what he had learned from Mrs. Liu; namely, that I was a divorced woman who, when saved from self-destruction, was homeless and starving.
That night, however, after hearing my story, he asked me to be his wife. He said: “I love you and would protect you from all trouble. Your child shall be as my own.”
I replied: “I appreciate your love and kindness, but I cannot answer you just yet. Be my friend for a little while longer.”
“Do you have for me the love feeling?” he asked.