Miss Goering smiled faintly.
“You see,” he continued, “it has been growing colder and colder in the house these last few days. Miss Gamelon has had the sniffles terribly, I must concede, and also, as you know, she’s been in a wretched test about the old-fashioned cooking equipment right from the beginning. Now, Arnold doesn’t really mind anything if he has enough to eat, but recently Miss Gamelon has refused to set foot in the kitchen.”
“Now what on earth has been the outcome of all this? Do hurry up and tell me,” Miss Goering urged him.
“I can’t go any faster than I’m going,” said Arnold’s father. “Now, the other day Adele Wyman, an old school friend of Arnold’s, met him in town and they had a cup of coffee together. In the course of the conversation Adele mentioned that she was living in a two-family house on the island and that she liked it but she was terribly worried about who was going to move into the other half.”
“Well, then, am I to gather that they have moved into this house and are living there?”
“They have moved into that house until you come back,” said Arnold’s father. “Fortunately, it seemed that you had no lease on the first little house; therefore, since it was the end of the month, they felt free to move out. Miss Gamelon wonders if you will send the rent checks to the new house. Arnold has volunteered to pay the difference in rent, which is very slight.”
“No, no, that is not necessary. Is there anything more that is new?” said Miss Goering.
“Well, it might interest you to know,” said Arnold’s father, “that I have decided to return to my wife and my original house.”
“Why?” Miss Goering asked.
“A combination of circumstances, including the fact that I am old and feel like going home.”
“Oh my,” said Miss Goering, “it’s a shame to see things breaking up this way, isn’t it?”
“Yes, my dear, it is a pity, but I have come here to ask you a favor besides having come because I loved you and wanted to say good-by to you.”
“I will do anything for you,” said Miss Goering, “that I can possibly do.”
“Well,” said Arnold’s father, “I would like you to read over this note that I have written to my wife. I want to send it to her and then I will return on the following day to my house.”
“Certainly,” said Miss Goering. She noticed there was an envelope on the table in front of Arnold’s father. She picked it up.
Dear Ethel [she read],
I hope that you will read this letter with all that indulgence and sympathy which you possess so strongly in your heart.
I can only say that there is, in every man’s life, a strong urge to leave his life behind him for a while and seek a new one. If he is living near to the sea, a strong urge to take the next boat and sail away no matter how happy his home or how beloved his wife or mother. It is true also if the man is living near a road that he may feel the strong urge to strap a knapsack on his back and walk away, again leaving a happy home behind him. Very few people follow this urge once they have passed their youth without doing so. But it is my idea that sometimes age affects us like youth, like strong champagne that goes to our heads, and we dare what we have never dared before, perhaps also because we feel that it is our last chance. However, while as youths we might continue in such an adventure, at my age one very quickly finds out that it is a mere chimera and that one has not the strength. Will you take me back?
Your loving husband,
Edgar
“It is simple,” said Arnold’s father, “and it expresses what I felt.”
“Is that really the way you felt?” asked Miss Goering.
“I believe so,” said Arnold’s father. “It must have been. Of course I did not mention to her anything concerning my sentiments about you, but she will have guessed that, and such things are better left unsaid.…”
He looked down at his woolen gloves and said no more for a little while. Suddenly he reached in his pocket and pulled out another letter.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I almost forgot. Here is a letter from Arnold.”
“Now,” said Miss Goering opening the letter, “what can this be about?”
“Surely a lot about nothing and about the trollop he is living with, which is worse than nothing.” Miss Goering opened the letter and proceeded to read it aloud:
Dear Christina,
I have told Father to explain to you the reasons for our recent change of domicile. I hope he has done so and that you are satisfied that we have not behaved rashly nor in a manner that you might conclude was inconsiderate. Lucy wants you to send her check to this present address. Father was supposed to tell you so but I thought that perhaps he might forget. Lucy, I am afraid, has been very upset by your present escapade. She is constantly in either a surly or melancholic mood. I had hoped that this condition would ameliorate after we had moved, but she is still subject to long silences and often weeps at night, not to mention the fact that she is exceedingly cranky and has twice had a set-to with Adele, although we have only been here two days. I see in all this that Lucy’s nature is really one of extreme delicateness and morbidity and I am fascinated to be by her side. Adele on the other hand has a very equable nature, but she is terribly intellectual and very much interested in every branch of art. We are thinking of starting a magazine together when we are more or less settled. She is a pretty blonde girl.
I miss you terribly, my dear, and I want you to please believe that if I could only somehow reach what was inside of me I would break out of this terrible cocoon I am in. I expect to some day really. I will always remember the story you told me when we first met, in which I always felt was buried some strange significance, although I must admit to you now that I could not explain what. I must go and take Bubbles some hot tea to her room now. Please, please believe in me.
Love and kisses,
Arnold
“He’s a nice man,” said Miss Goering. For some reason Arnold’s letter made her feel sad, while his father’s letter had annoyed and puzzled her.
“Well,” said Arnold’s father, “I must be leaving now if I want to catch the next ferry.”
“Wait,” said Miss Goering, “I will accompany you to the dock.” She quickly unfastened a rose that she had been wearing on the collar of her coat and pinned it on the old man’s lapel.
When they arrived at the dock the gong was being sounded and the ferry was all ready to leave for the island. Miss Goering was relieved to see this, for she had feared a long sentimental scene.
“Well, we made it in the nick of time,” said Arnold’s father, trying to adopt a casual manner. But Miss Goering could see that his blue eyes were wet with tears.… She could barely restrain her own tears and she looked away from the ferry up the hill.
“I wonder,” said Arnold’s father, “if you could lend me fifty cents. I sent all my money to my wife and I didn’t think of borrowing enough from Arnold this morning.”
She quickly gave him a dollar and they kissed each other good-by. While the ferry pulled out, Miss Goering stood on the dock and waved; he had asked her to do this as a favor to him.
When she returned to the apartment she found it empty, so that she decided to go to the bar and drink, feeling certain that if Andy was not already there, he would arrive sooner or later.
She had been drinking there a few hours and it was beginning to grow dark. Andy had not yet arrived and Miss Goering felt a little relieved. She looked over her shoulder and saw that the heavy-set man who owned the hearse-like car was coming through the door. She shivered involuntarily and smiled sweetly at Frank, the bartender.
“Frank,” she said, “don’t you ever get a day off?”