Part 18 (2/2)
And, as he remained silent: ”That is what I had to say; not all--because--I wish to--to thank you for offering it... . You did not have very much, either; and you divided what you had. So I thank you--and I return it.”... The tension forced her to attempt a laugh.
”So we stand once more on equal terms; unless you have anything of mine to return--”
”I have your photograph,” he said.
The silence lasted until he straightened up and, rubbing the fog from the window gla.s.s, looked out.
”We are in the Park,” he remarked, turning toward her.
”Yes; I did not know how long it might take to explain matters. You are free of me now whenever you wish.”
He picked up the telephone, hesitated: ”Home?” he inquired with an effort. And at the forgotten word they looked at one another in stricken silence.
”Y-yes; to _your_ home first, if you will let me drop you there--”
”Thank you; that might be imprudent.”
”No, I think not. You say you are living at the Gerards?”
”Yes, temporarily. But I've already taken another place.”
”Where?”
”Oh, it's only a bachelor's kennel--a couple of rooms--”
”Where, please?”
”Near Lexington and Sixty-sixth. I could go there; it's only partly furnished yet--”
”Then tell Hudson to drive there.”
”Thank you, but it is not necessary--”
”Please let me; tell Hudson, or I will.”
”You are very kind,” he said; and gave the order.
Silence grew between them like a wall. She lay back in her corner, swathed to the eyes in her white furs; he in his corner sat upright, arms loosely folded, staring ahead at nothing. After a while he rubbed the moisture from the pane again.
”Still in the Park! He must have driven us nearly to Harlem Mere. It _is_ the Mere! See the cafe lights yonder. It all looks rather gay through the snow.”
”Very gay,” she said, without moving. And, a moment later: ”Will you tell me something? ... You see”--with a forced laugh--”I can't keep my mind--from it.”
”From what?” he asked.
”The--tragedy; ours.”
”It has ceased to be that; hasn't it?”
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