It is not the talisman so much as the manner of using it that
wins a girl's love. And she may think one manner good until she comes
to know that another is better."
"And, later, that another is better still?"
"You trust my feeling less than you thought, you see," said Mary,
blushing, and with a tremor of her lips.
"Perhaps I am afraid of trusting it too much," Drayton replied, fixing
his eyes upon her. Then he went on, with a changed tone and manner:
"This metaphysical discussion of ours reminds me of one of Emerson's
poems, whose book, by-the-by, I brought with me. Have you ever read
them?"
"Very few of them," said Mary; "I don't seem to belong to them."
"Not many people can eat them raw, I imagine," rejoined Drayton,
laughing. "They must be masticated by the mind before they can nourish
the heart, and some of them--However, the one I am thinking of is very
beautiful, take it how you will. It is called, 'Give all to Love.' Do
you know it!"
Mary shook her head.
"Then listen to it," said Drayton, and he read the poem to her. "What
do you think of it?" he asked when he had ended.
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