Part 44 (1/2)
”You are Mrs. Whitaker--yes; but--”
”Dear, you are cruel to me!”
”I think it's you who would be cruel to yourself, dear heart.”
She found no ready answer; was quiet for a s.p.a.ce; then stirred, s.h.i.+vering. Behind them the fires were dying; by contrast a touch of chill seemed to pervade in the motionless air.
”I think,” she announced, ”we'd better go in.”
She rose without a.s.sistance, moved away toward the house, paused and returned.
”Hugh,” she said gently, with a quaver in her voice that wounded his conceit in himself; for he was sure it spelled laughter at his expense and well-merited--”Hugh, you big sulky boy! get up this instant and come back to the house with me. You know I'm timid. Aren't you ashamed of yourself?”
”I suppose so,” he grumbled, rising. ”I presume it's childish to want the moon--and sulk when you find you can't have it.”
”Or a star?”
He made no reply; but his very silence was eloquent. She attempted a shrug of indifference to his disapproval, but didn't convince even herself; and when he paused before entering the house for one final look into the north, she waited on the steps above him.
”Nothing, Hugh?” she asked in a softened voice.
”Nothing,” he affirmed dully.
”It's strange,” she sighed.
”Lights enough off beyond the lighthouse yonder,” he complained: ”red lights and green, bound east and west. But you'd think this place was invisible, from the way we're ignored. However....”
They entered the kitchen.
”Well--however?” she prompted, studying his lowering face by lamplight.
”Something'll have to be done; if they won't help us, we'll have to help ourselves.”
”Hugh!” There was alarm in her tone. He looked up quickly. ”Hugh, what are you thinking of?”
”Oh--nothing. But I've got to think of something.”
She came nearer, intuitively alarmed and pleading. ”Hugh, you wouldn't leave me here alone?”
”What nonsense!”
”Promise me you won't.”
”Don't be afraid,” he said evasively. ”I'll be here--as always--when you wake up.”
She drew a deep breath, stepped back without removing her gaze from his face, then with a gesture of helplessness took up her lamp.
”Good night, Hugh.”
”Good night,” he replied, casting about for his own lamp.