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Sinclair, May, 1863-1946

"The Three Sisters"


"You'll say next that's why you don't come."
"Why--I--don't come?"
"Yes. It's ages since you've been here."
That was always Mary's cry.
"I haven't much time, Molly, for coming on the off-chance."
"The off chance! As if I'd never asked you! You can go to Alice."
"Poor Ally wouldn't have anybody to show the baby to if I didn't. You
haven't seen one of Ally's babies."
"I can't, Gwenda. I must think of the children. I can't let them grow
up with little Greatorexes. There are three of them, aren't there?"
"Didn't you know there's been another?"
"Steven _did_ tell me. She had rather a bad time, hadn't she?"
"She had. Molly--it wouldn't do you any harm now to go and see her.
I think it's horrid of you not to. It's such rotten humbug. Why, you
used to say _I_ was ten times more awful than poor little Ally."
"There are moments, Gwenda, when I think you are."
"Moments? You always did think it. You think it still. And yet
you'll have me here but you won't have her. Just because she's gone a
technical howler and I haven't."
"You haven't. But you'd have gone a worse one if you'd had the
chance."
Gwenda raised her head.
"You know, Molly, that that isn't true."
"I said if. I suppose you think you had your chance, then?"
"I don't think anything. Except that I've got to go."
"You haven't. You're going to stay for dinner now you're here."
"I can't, really, Mary."
But Mary was obstinate.


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