By common consent, they seemed
to make excuses to leave the room as the hour of departure approached,
and she always found it easier when someone was there.
Again, when she had made her adieux and had reached the door leading
into the hall, Allison called her back.
"Yes?" "Couldn't you--just once, you know--for good-night?" he asked,
with difficulty.
His face made his meaning clear. Rose bent, kissed him tenderly upon the
forehead, and quickly left the room. Her heart was beating so hard that
she did not know she stumbled upon the threshold, nor did she hear his
low: "Thank you--dear."
That night she could not sleep. "I can't," she said to herself,
miserably; "I can't possibly go on, if--Oh, why should he make it so
hard for me!"
If the future was to be possible on the lines already laid down, he,
too, must keep the impersonal attitude. Yet, none the less, she was
conscious of an uplifting joy that would not be put aside, but
insistently demanded its right of expression.
She did not dare trust herself to see Allison again, and yet she must.
She could not fail him now, when he needed her so much, nor could she
ask the others to see that they were not left alone.
Pages:
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323