Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1917-09-18
CHAPTER xxV-continued.


street. and were halfway over to the
Fifth avenue corner at Fifty-ninth, be-
fore he spoke out.
"On a day like this" he said, "to
have sat there for two or three mortal
hours arguing about stale ideas-when
we might have been out here, being
alive! But it must have seemed nat
ural to you to hear me going on like
that" And then with a burst, before
she could speak:
you must remember me as the most
blindly opinionated fool in the world ~
She caught her breath, then said
very quietly, with a warm little laugh
In her voice: 'That's not how I re-
member you, Roddy."
She declined to help him when he
tried to scramble back to the safe
shores of conventional conversation.
That sort of thing had lasted long
enough. And when they stopped and
faced each other in the gray brick en-
trance to the building where Roses
apartment was, it was at the end of a
mile or more of absolutely unbrOken
silence. And facing each other there,
all that was said between them was
her:
you'll come in, won't you?"- and his
eyes"
But the gravity with which she'd
uttered the invitation and the tense
ness of HIS acceptance of it, the square
look that passed between them, marked
an end of something and the begin
ming of something new.
She left him in her sitting room
while she went into her room to take
off her hat and jacket and take a
glance into her mirror. When she
came back she found him standing
at her window, looking out. He didn't
turH when she came in, but almost
Immediately he began speaking. She
went rather limp at the sound of his
voice and dropped down on an otto
man in front of the fireplace, and
squeezed her hands together between
her knees.
81 don't know how much you will
have understood" he began; ''prob-
ably a good deal. What I hope you
will have guessed is that I wouldn't
have come except that I'd something to
tell yOu-something felt you were en-
titled to be told. But 1 felt-thls is
what you won't have understood-I felt
that hadn't any right to speak to you
at all, about anything vital, until I'd
given you some sort of guaranty until
I'd shown you that / was person 1t
was possible to deal reasonably with"
She smiled, then pressed her hands
suddenly to her eyes. 81 understood"
she said.
well then :" But he didn't
at once go on. Stood there a while
longer at the window, then crossed
the room and brought up before her
bOokshelves, staring blindly at the IT,
ties. He hadn't looked at her even as
he crossed the room.
"Oh, it's presumptuous thing to try
to say" he broke out at last, "a pitiful-
1y unnecessary thing to say, because
you must know it without my telling
you. But when you went away you said
you said 1t was because you hadn't
my-friendshlp! You said that was the
thing you wanted, and that you were
going to try and earn it. And you told
me that I'd never be able to see that
the thing you were doing there was
fine thing, worth doing, entitled to my
respect. But what I've come down here
to say isis that now, at last-I do
see it."
She would have spoken then If she
could have commanded her voice, and
as it was, the sound she made con-
veyed her intention to him, for he
turned upon her quickly as if to inter
Tupt the unspoken words, and went on
with an almost savage bitterness:
"Oh, I'm under no illusions about it.
l had my chance to see, when seeing
would have meant something to you
helped you. When anyone but the
blindest sort of fool would have seen.
l didn't. Now, when the thing is pat
ent for the world to see-now that
you've won your fight without any
help from me :. Without any help!
Ia spite of every hindrance that my
tdiocy could put in your way! Now,
after ALL come and tell you that
you've earned the thing you've set out
10 get"
There was little silence after that.
She got up and took the post he had
abandoned ut the window.
'Why did you do it, Roddy?" she
asked. AZ mean, why did you want to
come and tell me?"
"Why. in the first place." he said,
II wanted to get back q little of my
seif-respect. 1 couldn't get that until
I'd told you"
This time the silence was longer.
what else did you want?" she
asked. "What-in the second placer"
81 want to earn your friendship.
It's the biggest thing l can hope
for. But I've no idea that you can
hand it out to me ready-made. 1 be-
lleve you'd do it if you could. But
you said once, yourself, that it wasn't
a thing that could be given. 1t was a
thing that had TO be earned. And You
were right about that. as you were
about so many other things. Well.
Tn going to try to earn it."
as that-all you want?" she asked.
and then, hearing the little gasp he
gave, she swung around quickly and
looked at him. 1t was pretty dark i'll
the room, but his face in the dusk
seemed to have whitened.
rs friendship all you want of me,
Roddy?" she asked again. She stood
there waiting. full minute, in silence.
Then she said: You don't have to
tell me that. Because l know. Oh
Oh, my dear, how well 1 knowl"
He didn't come to her; just stood
.here, gripping the corner If her book
case and staring at her silhouette,
which was sbout all he could see of
her against the window. At last he
raid, in S strained, dry voice she'd