"It's awful to be so
afraid. It must make life itself terrible."
"They'll operate soon as they dare--an exploratory operation. If only
I could have a say--a real say! It's maddening to know so much--to be
sure of oneself. I don't believe Rogers would take me out on his
private work if he knew I knew all I do. I'm glad we're on a surgical
post together, Francey. I don't know what I'd do if I hadn't got you
to talk things over with."
"You daren't talk of anything else," she answered unexpectedly.
"You're frightened of our being happy together. You're always trying
to justify yourself."
"I'm not--what rubbish!"
He tried to laugh at her. It was so like Francey to dash off down a
side issue. And yet it was true. He did try to think as much as he
could of that side of their common life. It did add an appearance of
stability and reason to the splendid unreason of his loving her. It
made up to him for those dismaying breaks when her face and body stood
like a scorching pillar of fire between himself and his work, to find
that when they were together they could be sternly practical, discuss
their eases and criticize their superiors as though, beneath it all,
there were not this golden, insurgent sea whose high tides swirled over
his landmarks. Not destroying them.
In those latter times he loved her humbly, with wonder and passionate
self-abasement. But in their work they stood further away from one
another.
Pages:
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188