Part 23 (1/2)
”Well, what?”
”My--it's my inspiration!”
”That comes”; she spoke slowly. ”Every night when you look out of the window. That's how it comes, Jasper.”
”Look out of the window? Why shouldn't I look out of the window?”
”What is it you see? Over there; in that house; in that one window?”
He looked across the way at the shadow moving to and fro against the window blind.
He started to his feet so suddenly that his chair crashed to the floor behind him. He faced her angrily.
”What under the sun's the matter with you?”
”Nothing.”
”Then why can't you leave me alone?”
”I want to know, Jasper.”
”You don't know what you want.”
”Yes, Jasper; I--want--to--know--”
”Leave the room,” he said furiously. ”Leave the room! I've got to write!”
She started for the door.
”You've got to write?” Her words came back to him across the length of the room with a curious insistence. ”_You've_--got--to--write, Jasper?”
He waited until the door closed behind her and then he went back to his desk.
What had she meant by that last question of hers? Didn't she know that he had to write? Didn't she realize that he had to write?
And this book of his; this book that was to be the biggest thing that he had yet done.
”Ellen,” he called. ”Ellen!”
He heard her feet coming toward him along the pa.s.sageway.
She came back into the room as though nothing had happened.
”Yes, Jasper?”
”What--what did you mean by that, Ellen? By what you just said?”
She faced him in the center of the room.
”I've been wanting to tell you, Jasper.”