Hart has remained my dancing partner. Always my lover, never my husband. He still asks for my hand from time to time, but never complains when I say I prefer it this way. Even as the Widow Bigelow lay in bed dying, she scolded me and blamed my refusals on my being born different, on my having lived with Miss B. or on my being "the girl who went to Boston." I should have told her it was more that I didn't want to end up like her - having married and lost two husbands, two brothers, two Bigelow men. I think Miss B. would have a good laugh over it all. That Missy Austen always seemed to be endin' her books with a weddin'. Catherine marryin' Henry, Miss Bennett marryin' Mr. Darcy, then fin, the end. Seems to me what she's sayin' is that once you're hitched, it might as well be the end.
Fragment from the very beautiful, heart warming The birth house, Ami McKay.
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