He stooped a little, finding his way up the steps to the street.
At the corner the three children stopped, to look at a deer hung there by its hind feet, to remark, — Lookit where they stuck the paper flower!
From down the block two women approached. — And I just haven't been the same since the Morro Castle. . the tall woman said, and laughed. — And I wish I could, but I can't, this dismal cocktail party tonight, my husband has to go, he's her editor, and I'm his wife. We're going to miss the Narcissus Festival in Hawaii again this year, I told him we'd just have one of our own. .
Basil Valentine's hands were clenched deep in his coat pockets. — Now? a Turkish bath? he muttered. — Well don't worry, those fragments, I'll be there tonight, I'll be at Brown's. And he looked up, as though watching something blown on the wind.
Ahead, the three children approached a figure sprawled on the sidewalk, and a little boy on a tricycle wheeling round it. — What's that? asked the smallest. — A man, what's it look like? — It looks like a Sanny Clans. What it's wearing, it looks like it was a Sanny Glaus suit, don't it? — How could it be a Sanny Glaus? It don't have a wite beard. — But it's getting a beard.
Valentine's look was not so steady: he raised it every three or so steps with that sort of blank surprise of a man glancing up to where he has been used to seeing a mirror upon entering a room, and finding a blank wall. — At Philippi? he murmured. — Yes. . Why, I will see thee at Philippi, then. Like the sky, his eyes remained unclouded, but (perhaps it was the sky beyond him that did it) simply darkened, evenly, assuming a hard solidity and the enduring texture of gray, as the sky itself was doing, as one might have seen, looking up at them both.
The tall woman turned her friend in at a door before the stubble-chinned figure sprawled on the walk in front of her house, — Right under the dining-room window, in fact, right here, as she remarked, — in front of God and everybody. She almost tripped over the tricycling child, but got the rail and down the steps to say, — My husband says that's when you have to be careful, around lunchtime, that's when most of them jump, when the streets are full of people, they do it then for the publicity.
Above her the sky darkened. She did not look at it, but went in with her eyes on her own hand laid out at elegant length on her friend's fur; while behind her, outside, the tricycle wove smaller and smaller circles, as its rider watched over the left shoulder how close the rear tire could come to the fingers on the pavement.
By late afternoon it was snowing.
The flakes were small, blown neither one side nor the other, nor falling direct to earth, but filling the air with continuous movement.
Mickey Mouse pointed to ten minutes of four.
The first thing she saw when she entered her apartment was the unnatural radiance of the sunlamp. Agnes Deigh paused there, still holding her keys, as though to appreciate fully the affliction before her, worse second by second as she hesitated, considering what might have happened had she not arrived; even perhaps that there was still time for her to leave, quietly as she had come, back into the trans-figurating weather: but before she was able to contain this possibility sufficient to examine it, and find there one of those mortal shocks with which life rarely presents us opportunity to abandon the bonds of circumstances woven with such care, and start off upon any of a thousand alternative courses among which, like the needle in the haystack, lies the real one: habit betrays us, as it betrayed Agnes Deigh. She put a hand on the Swede's shoulder, and made a sound.
— Owwwayy. . what. . what. .
— How long have you been asleep under this thing?
— What time is it? — Almost four, she said, and finally turned the sunlamp off.
— Oh my God, my God, I've been here for. . owwwww… what shall I do?. . the Swede wailed.
— There's some butter. I'll get some butter.
So that is what she did. — I'll die. . she heard him a minute later from the bathroom, applying it. — How could it happen? But just look at mel. .
Instead she looked away, and said, — I wish you'd. . But she had looked away in time, and broke off, biting her lip, her eyes fixed at the same level (staring at a table lamp) as though she could not raise them.
— Baby, Ba-by! Oooooooooo.
— I wish you'd put something around you, she said, recovered, looking up, and caught her lip again, for it had almost happened again: she had almost said what she did not know she meant, instead of what she meant to say; just as, that day in the office when she had intended to ask, Are you Catholic?. . and had suddenly heard herself demand, Do you believe in God?
The Swede had got back into the bathroom. Agnes Deigh sat down, and opened the only letter that was waiting for her. She read,
Dear Madam. . The case you reported to us as sadism and brutality reported by you to this precinct Tuesday December 20 at 10:17 A-M-resulted in false arrest for which you may be held responsible. Dr. Weis-gall who you accused, was punishing his daughter in which case unless injury results no third party is obliged to intervene. This case is marked closed in our files but we feel it our duty to warn you that if at future date you accuse someone of criminal action that you investigate the facts thoroughly before reporting it to the Police. We also feel it our duty to warn you that Dr. Weisgall may be justified in communicating with you as agent of his unjust arrest, and any future action will take place between yourself and the injured party. .
— Baby who sent you ros-es? The Swede had emerged, clothed. Agnes looked up. She made a sound, almost told him, and bit her lip on that stark erect syllable. Then her telephone rang. — What? she said into it, shaken. — Hello?. .
(-Hello, Mrs. Deigh? — Baby I've got to find a doctor. — Yes, what is it? who is it?
(—I'm sorry, this is Stanley and I think I left my glasses at your house once, and when could I… how. . — I hate to run off like this baby but I'll call you, from the hospital probably, but I can't go to the hospital on Christmas Eve. . —Stanley, Stanley, I… I'm so glad you called. Yes, I found them. I found your glasses, Stanley. But I won't be home now, I'm going to a party in a little while. But could you come there? Couldn't you meet me there?
(—But I'm getting a toothache, but yes, all right, I can come for a little while but I have to go up to this new hospital where they moved my mother. .
— Yes here, here's the address. . She lead it to him; and almost a full minute passed after she'd hung up the phone and sat, staring at the letter she'd just received, before she looked up and realized she was alone.
Immediately she got pen and paper and started to write. "Dear Doctor Weisgall. I cannot begin to tell you how sorry I am for my recent mistake. How can I explain it to you so that you will forgive me? A woman's life is not. ." She stopped and read that; as she would stop and read again, and again, until the letter on the edge of the wastebasket started, "Dear Doctor Weisgall. Perhaps it is not until late in life that we realize that we do not, ever, pay for our own mistakes. We pay for the mistakes of others, and they. ." And the letter which fluttered to the floor, "Dear Sir. I trust that you are intelligent enough to distinguish between a vulgar act of meanness and revenge, which God knows I have no reason to commit, and the act of a citizen and a human being doing what she believes. ." when she got up to find two strips of tape. Then she stood at the window stretching the skin at her temples, sticking the tape there to discourage wrinkles while she rested. Unblinking, she stared out at the snowfall a minute longer; and when she turned on the room her moving eyes found the roses. They were full blown with the steam heat: and that instant her gaze struck them, three petals fell.