The Key West citizen. [volume] (Key West, Fla.) 1879-current, 1934-08-31

49,
slipped gently into being. bob sat
up. drew his knees mp, dropped his
head 70 his arms.
Ills night had been long and
sieepless. He had fought his remem.
orance OF kissing her again and
again; given In to it: risen from IL
-shamed. He had tried to remem-
Der every word he had said: he had
planned his. apology. And in the
chaos, had come to him the certain.
" that he had forgotten much.
He glanced toward the bureau.
ne could make out, in the limiting
Hight. the casket that had once held
French bonbons. And for perhaps
the hundredth time since he had
nrst seen It. he flushed.
He had given her that box. he re.
membered as his cheeks cooled. 1t
was odd. her having kept it. she had
said when he brought it to her, with
some flowers, some books and an
ODD little trinket in jade that he
thought she might like. Don't be so
good to mel"
She was not as heartless as he
had said she was; he knew 1t. And
he had told her that he was done
with caring -. well, he was not done
with caring and he never could be.
II she could know how 1t was with
him, she might forgive him his bru.
tally little more easily. No mat.
ter what she had been, what she
would be, what she was. he loved
heri CHS shoulders moved, with
his deep sharply indrawn breath.)
IT was love that did not yield to
argument nor reason and 1t was,
primarily, love. not passion. Never
before had he forgotten her through
his needs, and he would never, he
promised himself, so forget her
again.
He recalled q story of Richard
Harding Davis. in which a man,
questioned by the father of the girl
whom he wanted to marry. admit
ted that he would not hurry to the
girl he wanted to marry. If he had
only a year to live but instead to
another woman.
II was like that; and II he had
only year. he would pick Marsha
up. take her of somewhere where
her screams wouldn't be heard, and
love her very gently. but love her
for the all-too-short space, and ask
her to let him believe that she loved
him.
It was curious; this divorce be.
tween love and respect. When
younger. he had not dreamed 1t
could be so. But it was so. Nothing
had ever been for him more truly
so. He loved her without respecting
her and he loved her as he had not,
once. dreamed men could love.
He had not known such rage as
he had felt the night before, since
childhood. and then he had suffered
it but few times; he had soon been
''too grown up TO do that" And he
had loosed it all upon her.
He wondered, sitting up in his
he'd. how long 1t would be before
she woke and before he could ask
her to forgive him his conduct Of
the night before. He hoped, intense
ly, that it would not be too long; he
had had about as much of it as he
could bear.
lie raised his head from his arms
and after a space of staring at the
bonbon box on his bureau, he sank
back. He had not slept during the
night and his eyes closed; a drowsi-
ness crept over him through which
he saw Marsha's face. He slept to
dream of her, holding her arms out
to him as he ran up the gulch path
and toward her.
When he awoke sunlight was
boldly printed upon the floor, and q
long, steady look at his watch, dur.
ing which the dial became clear,
told him that it was we'll after nine.
He rose, sodden. Cold water
helped him to gain the strength
that he knew he would need in talk
ing to her. Her room was quiet. He
heard not a stir from it. She might,
of course, have gone down to break.
fast early.
When Bob gained the dining
room and when clock hands were
leaning toward ten, he found old
Bartholomew waiting him and snil-
ing.
"You rested better, sir" said Bar
tholomew, land 1t has done me good
to know it, Everything is ready and
waiting and hot, sir. And the cook
says as how 1t looks like true spring
at last"
(cosyriSGE. 1884. 6y K. R4vRasS- Tsyissl