Sven digital books

He left their comradely hours
together better and stronger. All the week centered about that
one hour, out of seven days, when he stood on her hearth-rug, or
lay back in a deep chair, listening or talking - such talk as
Natalie might have heard without resentment.
Some times he felt that that one hour was all he wanted; it
carried so far, helped so greatly. He was so boyishly content in
it. And then she would make a gesture, or there would be, for a
second, a deeper note in her voice, and the mad instinct to catch
her to him was almost overwhelming.
Some times he wondered if she were not very lonely, not knowing that
she, too, lived for days on that one hour. She was not going out,
because of Chris's death, and he knew there were long hours when she
sat alone, struggling determinedly with the socks she was knitting.
Only once did they tread on dangerous ground, and that was on her
birthday. He stopped in a jeweler's on his way up-town and brought
her a black pearl on a thin almost invisible chain, only to have
her refuse to take it.


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