"The pretty little spell is broken, Majy. No matter how we try to
escape from the war, it is always shrieking in upon us. We're up
against naked facts all the time. If we can't face them we go
under either physically or spiritually. Anyhow--" she smiled with
just a little touch of weariness,--"we may as well face them in
comfort."
She pushed my chair gently nearer to the fire and sat down by my
side. And there we remained in intimate silence until Marigold
announced the arrival of her car.
CHAPTER XVIII
I shrink morbidly from visiting strange houses. I shrink from the
unknown discomforts and trivial humiliations they may hold for me.
I hate, for instance, not to know what kind of a chair may be
provided for me to sit on. I hate to be carried up many stairs
even by my steel-crane of a Marigold. Just try doing without your
legs for a couple of days, and you will see what I mean. Of course
I despise myself for such nervous apprehensions, and do not allow
them to influence my actions--just as one, under heavy fire, does
not satisfy one's simple yearning to run away. I would have given
a year's income to be able to refuse Boyce's request with a clear
conscience; but I could not.
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