The Bluffton news. [volume] (Bluffton, Ohio) 1875-current, 1942-09-24

She said: 'sYou know about Hack?
OF course-you came from there.
He sank into the chair, his long
legs pushed forward. She stood near
him, looking down. She put her
hands before her, locked together,
and for a moment she had the ex-
preston of little girl on her face,
half-wistful and half-stormy. She
said: "You shouldn't-you shouldn't.
Suppose it had been you instead of
Hack? And when you meet Heren-
deem, which one viii it be? You are
sure to meet. Everybody knows that.
1t is as certain and as brutal as
death. Well, it is death. Clay, is
there anything / can say to stop
your"
mo, not now, Ann"
''Not now, and not at any time,"
she added quietly. Il have never
been able to change you. Never.
In any way at ALL
He said: why worry about it?"
You know me pretty well. / know
you pretty well. Let's be satisfied
with that"
She walked away from him. AT a
corner of the room she turned. fac
ing him over the distance. What
do you know about me? What do
you really know?"
II told you once, and you didn't
like it."
when you said it, Clay, you nev-
er meant it. 1t was joke-and I
hated YOU"
He shook his head, puzzled and
gently amused at her. "There is fire
enough in you to burn up the town.
You swing like the weather-never
still. You could be the kind of
woman, ! think, to throw furniture
at man when you got mad. You
could cruelty him-if you loved him.
And be sorry afterwards, guess"
'Oh, Clay" she said, humbly,
''not scold-not a spitfire."
NO." he admitted. "Just Ann
McGarrah who wants things per-
feet"
Her eyes grew darker and dark
er. CLAY" she said, near to a
whisper, "you don't mean to be cru
Ell, but you are. If" She shrugged
her shoulders, quickly changed the
subject. "How's Janet?"
"All right. Catherine came up to
see her today" He watched stiffness
come to her face, listening in
tentness, a GOODNESS holding away
her dislike. Then he said. 'They
seem to get along mighty WELL"
She said: Don't you want cof-
fee?"
Better get back and see how Lige
is making out" he said, coming to
his feet.
She walked toward him. She stood
in front of him, quite near-this
small, supple girl so intense and so
crowded with willful pride. She
was dark, she was vivid; her lips
were red and firm across her oval
face and he caught the fragrance of
her hair and was affected by it.
Looking up, she drew a long, long
breath. He never was able to de-
fine the look he saw in her eyes that
night-it was like fear or shame, or
like a woman forcing herself over
some obstacle she dreaded. Her
voice was taut and very slow. "It
is hard to learn some things, Clay
Hard to learn that sometimes moth
ing comes by waiting, or by pray
ing. And very hard to find out that
a woman has to change as she swore
she could never change. All that I
am is right here in front of you, but
it never has been enough-just to
be in front of you. Is it something
cold about me, or something of an
old maid in me? / don't know. But
only once did / ever see anything
in your eyes that ! put there. That
was when I wore dress which left
my shoulders bare. was a woman
to you that night"
She lifted her arms. They touched
his shoulders and lay there, with
the smallest pressure in them, pull
ing him. He saw her lips lengthen
and part, he saw her eyes widen,
as though she opened herself to him
completely. Reaching forward he
kissed her, catching the force of her
sudden-giving body. But even then
there was a difference, strain, a
lack. When ne stepped back they
both knew it. She caught her breath
sharply, turning away. And said in
a dulling voice: "No, not for me.
Well, good-by."