Her memory worked automatically , and her tongue obeyed it promptly . To herself she seemed like a machine , talking mechanically , while her soul stood on one side and listened . When she had finished there was a silence lasting perhaps ten seconds . To Alma it seemed like hours . Would Gilbert overwhelm her with angry reproaches , or would he simply rise up and leave her in unutterable contempt ? It was the most tragic moment of her life , and her whole personality was strung up to meet it and withstand it . `` Well , they were good letters , anyhow , '' said Gilbert finally ; `` interesting letters , '' he added , as if by way of a meditative afterthought . It was so anti-climactic that Alma broke into an hysterical giggle , cut short by a sob . She dropped into a chair by the table and flung her hands over her face , laughing and sobbing softly to herself . Gilbert rose and walked to the door , where he stood with his back to her until she regained her self-control . Then he turned and looked down at her quizzically . Alma 's hands lay limply in her lap , and her eyes were cast down , with tears glistening on the long fair lashes . She felt his gaze on her . `` Can you ever forgive me , Gilbert ? '' she said humbly . `` I do n't know that there is much to forgive , '' he answered . `` I have some explanations to make too and , since we 're at it , we might as well get them all over and have done with them . Two years ago I did honestly think I was in love with Anna -- at least when I was round where she was . She had a taking way with her . But , somehow , even then , when I was n't with her she seemed to kind of grow dim and not count for so awful much after all .
I used XXXXX wish she was more like you -- quieter , you know , and not so sparkling .
ago in into like of on that to until with