"What I do is for the best, and I can only hope she may have strength to bear the separation. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. He felt that he was getting on with her very slowly indeed, but he did not see how he could get on faster. The Roof and the Window V. But ere the words could find utterance, her maternal tenderness overcame her indignation; and, sinking upon her knees, she extended her arms over her child. . “Yeah, I’ve heard that story. And then her pace slackened.
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