Then I became conscious of a couple on a
settee near. I had not noticed them before. I got up and walked past
them. And there was Zoe!
It was dusk, but she knew me. She gave a quick start, put her hand to
her mouth. The man was silent, looking at her, unconscious of my
presence. I divined that she did not want me to speak to her. I heard
her say to her companion: "Go back. Leave me here awhile, I want to be
alone. I will return soon."
I walked on a distance of a hundred yards or more. Then I looked back. I
thought some one, Zoe, or both of them were still on the settee. I could
not be sure. I retraced my steps. When I came to the settee the man was
some distance away, going toward the town. Zoe motioned to me to walk
the way I had come. I did so; loitered and returned. Zoe was now alone.
I sat down beside her; Zoe took my hand.
My first thought was who was the man. Zoe proceeded to tell me that she
was working as a domestic, that this man was a voice teacher who had
recently arrived in Chicago from New York. I looked at Zoe, as if to ask
her what was the nature of the intimacy that would lead her into this
association at night in this secluded place by the lake. I followed this
by asking: "Are you very good friends?" "He is kind to me," Zoe said.
"He teaches me and we walk out together and talk.
Pages:
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168