" His eyes followed her wherever she
went, as ever. She could not sit down or stand up or open her delicate lips
but that he stared at her, hoping he could be of some service to her.
Sometimes he prayed that some slight accident would befall her in order
that he might prove his devotion. If she would only be sent to jail, that
he could bring her soup and pass it through the bars of her cell! He
dreamed this once, and awakened in a cold perspiration; for Angela (in the
dream) realized his worth then; and the Governor pardoned her, and they
were married at once and lived happily ever afterward. A Freudian lapse,
maybe, and a dream a little too sane, according to the psychologists, to
mean anything much; but rich in hidden meanings for poor "Red." Oh, that it
would come true! She had been so kind and sweet to him this morning.
Hardy ambled into the room, and looked around in the most casual way. His
eye lit upon Uncle Henry first of all, naturally; for he had all but bumped
into him.
"How are you, Smith?" he said. "Evenin'."
And Angela piped up, to both uncle and nephew: "Good evening."
Gilbert bowed. "How do you do? Won't you sit down?" And he pulled out a
chair for Angela.
Pages:
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99