"Let us do to-day the thing that belongs to to-day," she had just said,
and, strange to say, there shot into his mind words that belonged to the
days when he went to church at Castlegarry and thought of a thousand
things other than prayer or praise, but yet heard with the acute ears of
the young, and remembered with the persistent memory of youth. "For the
night cometh when no man can work," were the words which came to him. He
shuddered slightly. Suppose that this indeed was the beginning of the
night! As she said, he must play the game--play it as Crozier of Lammis
would have played it.
He stepped inside the room. "Let it be to-day," he said.
"We may be interrupted here," she replied. Courage came to her. "Let us
talk in your own room," she added, and going over she opened the door of
it and walked in. The matured modesty of a lost five years did not cloak
her actions now. She was a woman fighting for happiness, and she had
been so beaten by the rods of scorn, so smothered by the dust of
humiliation, that there had come to her the courage of those who would
rather die fighting than in the lethargy of despair.
It was like her old self to take the initiative, but she did it now in so
different a way--without masterfulness or assumption.
Pages:
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106