Prev | Current Page 125 | Next

Webster, Henry Kitchell, 1875-1932

"The Real Adventure"


But Rodney didn't interrupt. He let her go on and waited to inquire
about it later.
"So you see," she concluded, "it's quite an adventure just to say--well,
that I want the car at a quarter to eleven and to tell Otto exactly
where I want him to drive me to. I always feel as if I ought to say that
if he'll just stop the car at the corner of Diversey Street, I can
walk."
He laughed out at that and asked her how long she thought this blissful
state of things would last.
"Forever," she said.
But presently she propped herself up on one elbow and looked over at him
rather thoughtfully. "Of course it's none of it new to you," she
said--"not the silly little things I've been talking about, nor the
things we do together--oh, the dinners, and the dances, and the operas.
Do you sort of--wish I'd get tired of it? Is it a dreadful bore to you?"
"So long as it doesn't bore you," he said; "so long as you go
on--shining the way you do over it, and I am where I can see you
shine"--he got out of his bed, sat down on the edge of hers, and took
both her hands--"so long as it's like that, you wonder," he said, "well,
the dinners and the operas and all that may be piffle, but I shall be
blind to the fact.


Pages:
113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137