She had to play up to it for a long time, but her love
made her wonderfully clever and patient; and of course
the day came when she had her reward. Knowing him as she
did, she remembered the day and the difference it made.
It was toward the end of an afternoon in early April;
the discoloured snow still lay huddled in the bleaker
fence corners. Wide puddles stood along the roadsides,
reflecting the twigs and branches of the naked maples;
last year's leaves were thick and wet underfoot, and a
soft damp wind was blowing. Advena was on her way home
and Finlay overtook her. He passed her at first, with a
hurried silent lifting of his hat; then perhaps the
deserted street gave a suggestion of unfriendliness to
his act, or some freshness in her voice stayed him. At
all events, he waited and joined her, with a word or two
about their going in the same direction; and they walked
along together. He offered her his companionship, but he
had nothing to say; the silence in which they pursued
their way was no doubt to him just the embarrassing
condition he usually had to contend with. To her it seemed
pregnant, auspicious; it drew something from the low grey
lights of the wet spring afternoon and the unbound
heart-lifting wind; she had a passionate prevision that
the steps they took together would lead somehow to freedom.
Pages:
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114