Page 274
Story: The Breaking Point
She looked up at him timidly.
"You don't want to be friends, then?"
"No. A thousand times, no," he said violently. Then, more gently: "I'm
making a fool of myself. I want your peace and good will, Elizabeth. God
knows I need them."
"You frighten me, Dick," she said, slowly. "I didn't come to bring
forgiveness, if that is what you mean. I came--"
"Don't tell me you came to ask it. That would be more than I can bear."
"Will you listen to me for a moment, Dick? I am not good at explaining
things, and I'm nervous. I suppose you can see that." She tried to smile
at him. "A--a little work, a sleep, a little love, that's life, isn't
it?"
He was watching her intently.
"Work and trouble, and a long sleep at the end for which let us be duly
thankful--that's life, too. Love? Not every one gets love."
Hopelessness and despair overwhelmed her. He was making it hard for her.
Impossible. She could not go on.
"I did not come with peace," she said tremulously, "but if you don't
want it--" She rose. "I must say this, though, before I go. I blame
myself. I don't blame you. You are wrong if you think I came to forgive
you."
She was stumbling toward the door.
"Elizabeth, what did bring you?"
She turned to him, with her hand on the door knob. "I came because I
wanted to see you again."
He strode after her and catching her by the arm, turned her until he
faced her.
"And why did you want to see me again? You can't still care for me.
You know the story. You know I was here and didn't see you. You've seen
Leslie Ward. You know my past. What you don't know--"
He looked down into her eyes. "A little work, a little sleep, a little
love," he repeated. "What did you mean by that?"
"Just that," she said simply. "Only not a little love, Dick. Maybe you
don't want me now. I don't know. I have suffered so much that I'm not
sure of anything."
"Want you!" he said. "More than anything on this earth."
Bassett was at his desk in the office. It was late, and the night
editor, seeing him reading the early edition, his feet on his desk,
carried over his coffee and doughnuts and joined him.
"You don't want to be friends, then?"
"No. A thousand times, no," he said violently. Then, more gently: "I'm
making a fool of myself. I want your peace and good will, Elizabeth. God
knows I need them."
"You frighten me, Dick," she said, slowly. "I didn't come to bring
forgiveness, if that is what you mean. I came--"
"Don't tell me you came to ask it. That would be more than I can bear."
"Will you listen to me for a moment, Dick? I am not good at explaining
things, and I'm nervous. I suppose you can see that." She tried to smile
at him. "A--a little work, a sleep, a little love, that's life, isn't
it?"
He was watching her intently.
"Work and trouble, and a long sleep at the end for which let us be duly
thankful--that's life, too. Love? Not every one gets love."
Hopelessness and despair overwhelmed her. He was making it hard for her.
Impossible. She could not go on.
"I did not come with peace," she said tremulously, "but if you don't
want it--" She rose. "I must say this, though, before I go. I blame
myself. I don't blame you. You are wrong if you think I came to forgive
you."
She was stumbling toward the door.
"Elizabeth, what did bring you?"
She turned to him, with her hand on the door knob. "I came because I
wanted to see you again."
He strode after her and catching her by the arm, turned her until he
faced her.
"And why did you want to see me again? You can't still care for me.
You know the story. You know I was here and didn't see you. You've seen
Leslie Ward. You know my past. What you don't know--"
He looked down into her eyes. "A little work, a little sleep, a little
love," he repeated. "What did you mean by that?"
"Just that," she said simply. "Only not a little love, Dick. Maybe you
don't want me now. I don't know. I have suffered so much that I'm not
sure of anything."
"Want you!" he said. "More than anything on this earth."
Bassett was at his desk in the office. It was late, and the night
editor, seeing him reading the early edition, his feet on his desk,
carried over his coffee and doughnuts and joined him.
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