[Glen-users] time. If only he had still seemed to need her, nothing, nothing woul

[Suchanek <jap...@va...>]

 gone in that abrupt, speechless fashion--in spite of the heartache and
the long years between them, really and truly glad. Nothing had been
spoilt; they had snatched at no stolen joys. And the rapture, (what
rapture!) of meeting would blot out all that they had suffered in
silence--the separation--all of it! As she waited, getting well for him,
she had no regrets, growing more and more sure of his coming. It was not
until she was well again, not until the months had piled themselves on
each other, that, growing more frightened than she knew, she began her
new work of preparation. Suddenly, impulsively, when she had reached the
stage of giving him up for days at a time, when hope had nearly
abandoned her, then he came. He had left a woman so hopeful in outlook,
so young and peaceful in spirit, that with her the advancing years would
not matter. On his journey back to her, visualising her afresh, touching
up his memory of her, he pictured her going a little grey. That would
suit her--grey was her colour--blending to lavender in the clothes she
always wore for him. A little grey, but her clear, pale skin unfaded,
her large eyes full of pure, guarded secrets--secrets soon to unfold for
him alone. A haven--a haven! So he thought of her, and now, ready for
her, coming to her, he craved the rest she would give him--rest more
than anything in all the world. She, with her sweet white hands, when he
held them, kissed them, would unlock the doors of peace for him, drawing
him into her life, letting him potter and linger--linger at her side.
Even when long ago he had insisted to her that for him there was no way
of rest, he had known that she, just she, meant rest for him, when he
could claim her for his own. Other women, other pursuits, offered him
excitement, stimulation--and then a weariness too profound for words.
But rest, bodily, spiritually, was her unique gift for him. She--he
smiled as he thought it--would teach him to sit still. And tired, so
tired, he hurried to her across the world as fast as he could go.
Waiting at her door, the door opened, crossing the threshold--Oh, he had
never thought his luck would be so great as to be taken direct to the
well remembered room upstairs! Yet with only a few short inquiries he
was taken there--she for whom he asked, the mistress of the house, would
be in her sitting-room, he was to