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They would lie about in the sands all day,
building air castles. If she got tired of him, any person she wanted to
see should be telegraphed for forthwith. The one thing she had to bear
in mind was that she was to be happy and not bother about things; leave
everything to him.
This plan was carried out, and in a paradise, made up of blue sea, white
sands, warm sun and Rodney--Rodney always there, and queerly content to
drowse away the time with her, she almost forgot the great dam and the
pressure of the waters that had mounted up behind it. Was it an
obsession just as Rodney said? Would she find when it was all over and
she rallied herself for the great endeavor, that there was, after all,
no battle to be fought--nothing but a baby at her breast?


CHAPTER XIII
FATE PLAYS A JOKE

Traveling bars flowing along parallel, black and white; the white ones
incandescent;--and a small helpless harried thing struggling to keep in
the shadow of the black ones, or to regain it again across the pitiless
zone of white that the little helpless thing called pain.


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