We Three Part 39

"Listen. It--it wasn't any of it your fault. I tried to make you like me, and succeeded, and the harm was done--but now we've settled down to a harmless and quiet old age."

Had we? Oh, why had that pansy face and those great praying eyes come into my life again? Would it be always so when we met, the heart leaping, and the brain swimming, and the body shaken with tenderness and desire?

I spoke no word of betrayal, but so standing a little to one side of the pa.s.sing crowds on the sidewalk, looking into that upturned face, seeing those eyes so sad and prayerful above the smiling mouth, I betrayed my wife for the first time, and Lucy read me like a primer, and she knew that I loved her--either _still_ or once more. Of her own emotions her face told me nothing.

"I hear," she said, "that you are both to volunteer as nurses. I think that is splendid."

"If only I can live so as to help someone, Lucy. I am going to try very hard. And I am going to try very hard to be a good husband, for my wife has showered me with n.o.ble and priceless gifts."

After a moment: "I hope," said Lucy, "you're going on the American line. The Germans seem to be torpedoing everything else in sight."

"We're sailing on the _Lusitania_."

"When?"

"Tomorrow."

"They couldn't do anything to her. She's too big. You'll have some distinguished company."

"Really! I haven't seen the pa.s.senger list."

"Why, there's Justus Miles Forman, and Charles Frohman, and Alfred Vanderbilt and I don't know who all. . . . Well," she held out her hand suddenly; "I've ch.o.r.es to do, thousands of them, so good luck to you, and good-by, if I don't see you again."