If she could comfort him--mother him in his defeat
and discouragement--hold him fast when his world reeled around him, that
would be the basis of a better companionship than mere ability to chop
legal logic with him. She could he content with the shallow sparkle of
the stream of their life together, if it deepened, now and then, into
still pools like this.
She resisted the impulse to call him up on the telephone, and a stronger
one to go straight to him at his office. She'd wait until he came home
to her. She had been feeling wretched lately--headachy, nervous,
sickish;--probably, she thought, from staying in the house too much and
bending over her heavy law-books. Perhaps she had strained her eyes. But
to-day these discomforts were forgotten. Every little while she
straightened up and stood at an open window drawing in long breaths. He
should see her at her best to-night--serene--triumphant. The pallor of
her cheeks he had commented on lately, shouldn't be there to trouble
him.
For two hours that afternoon, she listened for his latch-key, and when
at last she heard it she stole down the stairs.
Pages:
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213