His father spent most of the day staring
vacantly into the parlorfire. If one spoke to every one,one was democratic; if
one did not, one was a snob, and got fewvotes. Eugene took allthe pennants from
the wall and folded them. She grasped his shaking hands to steady the
light,holding them for a moment after. A youngster developed in college
thepolitical craft he was later to exert in Party affairs.
Hisface was haggard and yellow: a tottering
weakness crept into hislimbs.
Youre lookinglike the flowers that bloom in
the Spring.
Yes, said Miss Brown, I believe in being
broad-minded aboutthese things, too.
Now he waspreparing to drift off in search of
employment in other towns.
They held each othersharply by the arms,
discovered, with caught breath.
He took Eugenes head and placed it against his
heart.
Thesurgeon at Baltimore had given no
hope.
The King didnt know how towrite, so they
mimeographed it. Everything is going out and nothings coming in. I doubted if
he would last the winter through.
Never before had he been so aware of
herenormous tranquil patience, the great health of her spirit. Then, with a
laugh ofteasing reproof, she said: I believe youre a bad boy,
Eugene.
All through the waning summer he walked with
Irene Mallard.
Eugene wrote him regularlytwice a week,
getting in return short but cheerful messages.
Before he had finished she began to
laugh.
She packed them in avalise and turned to
go.
Eugene looked atthat good shy face,
remembering the lost years, the lost faces.