Belington progressive. [volume] (Belington, W. Va.) 1912-1927, 1916-07-27
had done this thing to Gssryf she ZEN

long years lost out Of their youths
Gerry stood erect by The door, one
hand still holding the knob Why was
he waiting? Alix' raised hand went
slowly out to him in welcome but he
did not move. She smiled at him but
his eyes remained steadfast and grave.
A lump rose in Alix' throat and then,
as pride came 70 her aid, a flare of
color showed in her cheeks. Her lips
opened. What could she say to hurt
him enough, to pay him back for this
added, unjust rebuff? She knew so
little about this new Gerry. How could
she wound him?
And then he spoke. Twill you please
sit down? There are things must tell
you
Gerry had blundered on magic
tionally tense that true woman will
not drop the immediate issue to sit
down and listen to the untold things
she has wanted to hear. Alix was a
true woman. The flare died out of her
cheeks She sank into chair beside
the duly shining mahogany table and
with nod Of her golden head mo-
toned Gerry to a seat opposite her.
She watched the easy swing Of his
body as he moved across the room.
Gerry's mind was in sore conflict, bat
body in perfect health has way Of
taking care Of itself.
Gerry sat down and gripped the edge
of the table with outstretched hands.
He looked steadily into Alix' eyes.
The moment he had foreseen had come.
Alix sat in judgment. She planted her
bare elbows on the table, laid one
hand, palm down on the other and on
them both rested her cheek. Her head
with It's heavy crown of hair was thus
to one side but also tilted slightly for
ward. That slight forward tilt gave
strength to the pose and intensity A
curious, measuring look came into
Alix' eyes. She was silent and she
was waiting.
Gerry dropped his eyes to the table
and began to talk 'tThe things I have
got to tell you," he said, "begin with
that day-our last day. l went out
and walked for hours and realized that
l had been rough and unjust and to
blame. came over to the avenue and
was standing looking at some flowers
when you passed. / saw you in the
plate-glass of the window. l turned
around to make sure. / recognized
your trunk. | followed you to the sta
ton. l saw Alan signal to you.
saw you get into the train"
Gerry stopped. His premise was
finished and he found that he had no
tongue to tell the things he had thought
the long argument of the soul. He
realized that all that must be left out
He must confine himself to mere phys
ical facts, let them troop up in the
order in which they had come upon
him and file naked before Alix She
must dress them as she saw fit, as her
sympathies and her justice directed
He would give her but the ground
work, plain simple words such as he
could command, telling the events that
had come upon him and how he had
met them.
OF the trip out he had nothing to say
but of Pernambuco he told her in de- |
tail. Somehow it seemed the least he
could do for the filthy and beautiful
city that had given him an unques-
tioning asylum. He told her of the
quay, the Lingueta, with its line of
tall, stained houses, its vast plane
trees and its cobbled esplanade, the
stage where the city's life was in per-
petual review. His words came slow
ly but they left nothing out Uncon-
sciously he created an atmosphere. A
light Of interest burned In Allx' eyes.
She saw the changing scene. It
charmed her to restfulness as it had
Gerry.
She smelt the stacks OF pineapples,
the heaped-up mangoes, the frying fish,
and through his eyes she saw the blue
skies dotted with white still clouds
and glimpsed the secret, high-walled
gardens with their faring hibiscus,
trailing fuchsias, fantastic garden
cockscombs and dark-domed mango
and jack trees. She sat With Gerry
and, later, on the long slim coasting
craft she listened with him to the creak
of straining masts and stays and to the
lap of hurrying waters. She followed
him up the San Francisco, felt his i'm
patience with Penedo, took the little
stern-wheeler and learned the fascina-
ton of river with endless, undiscov-
cred turns. They came to Piranhas.
Here she felt herself on familiar
ground. Letters from the consul's en-
voy had made this place hers. Uncon-
sciously she nodded as Gerry described
the. tiers of houses, the twisted, climb.
ing streets, the miserable little inn.
Gerry told Of the happy days Of pom
derous canoeing and Of the unvarying
strings Of fish. He fingered over those
days. Thus far he had brought AK
with him. He felt it. Now he came to
the morning when he must leave her
behind. He told her Of the glorious
break Of that day, Of the sun fighting
through swirling mists. She saw him