"No, the spirit will be as
cheerful as the flesh will let it, mother. It won't do to behave
like--"
His voice was low, and in her movement to descend from the car she
failed to here his final words.
"Behave like who, Bibbs?"
"Nothing."
But she was fretful in her grief. "You said it wouldn't do to behave
like SOMEBODY. Behave like WHO?"
"It was just nonsense," he explained, turning to go in. "An obscure
person I don't think much of lately."
"Behave like WHO?" she repeated, and upon his yielding to her petulant
insistence, she made up her mind that the only thing to do was to tell
Dr. Gurney about it.
"Like Bildad the Shuhite!" was what Bibbs said.
CHAPTER XIV
The outward usualness of things continued after dinner. It was
Sheridan's custom to read the evening paper beside the fire in the
library, while his wife, sitting near by, either sewed (from old
habit) or allowed herself to be repeatedly baffled by one of the
simpler forms of solitaire. To-night she did neither, but sat in
her customary chair, gazing at the fire, while Sheridan let the
unfolded paper rest upon his lap, though now and then he lifted it,
as if to read, and let it fall back upon his knees again.
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