Shall I remember?
If I want to do anything different to what I did, how shall I remember when I get back there?
Don’t. Don’t do anything different, John.
Choose just before the hour of the step you desire to change. Memory lingers a little at first, and fades away slowly.
Then I can change one thing. After that I forget.
Even so. One thing. And the rest follows.
Well, it’s very good of you to make me this nice present, I’m sure.
Sell it not. Give it, as I gave it, if the heart impels. So shall it come back one day to the hills that are brighter than grass, made richer by the gratitude of many men. And my master shall smile thereat and the vale shall be glad.
It’s very good of you, I’m sure.
I don’t like it, John. I don’t like tampering with what’s gone.
My master’s power is in your hands.
I say, he’s gone.
O, he’s a dreadful man.
I never really meant to take it.
O, John, I wish you hadn’t
Why? I’m not going to use it.
Not going to use it, John?
No, no. Not if you don’t want me to.
O, I’m so glad.
And besides, I don’t want things different. I’ve got fond of this little house. And Briggs is a good old sort, you know. Cater’s a bit of an ass, but there’s no harm in him. In fact, I’m contented, Mary. I wouldn’t even change Aunt Martha now.