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Benson, E. F. (Edward Frederic), 1867-1940

"Michael"

You're not intending to give up, are you?"
"I couldn't give up."
"Well then, just hold on. She likes you, doesn't she?"
"Certainly," said Michael, without hesitation. "But that's a long way
from the other thing."
"It's on the same road."
Michael got up.
"It may be," he said, "but it strikes me it's round the corner. You
can't even see one from the other."
"Possibly not. But you never know how near the corner really is. Go for
her, Mike, full speed ahead."
"But how?"
"Oh, there are hundreds of ways. I'm not sure that one of the best isn't
to keep away for a bit. Even if she doesn't want you just now, when
you are there, she may get to want you when you aren't. I don't think I
should go on the mournful Byronic plan if I were you; I don't think it
would suit your style; you're too heavily built to stand leaning against
the chimney-piece, gazing at her and dishevelling your hair."
Michael could not help laughing.
"Oh, for God's sake, don't make a joke of it," he said.
"Why not? It isn't a tragedy yet. It won't be a tragedy till she marries
somebody else, or definitely says no. And until a thing is proved to be
tragic, the best way to deal with it is to treat it like a comedy
which is going to end well.


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