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They explored the woods, and Heyl had a fascinating way of talking about stones and shrubs and trees as if they were endowed with human qualities as indeed they were for him. They found a hill-slope carpeted with dwarf huckleberry plants, still bearing tiny clusters of the blue-black fruit. Fanny's heart was pounding, her lungs ached, her cheeks were scarlet, her eyes shining.
"If this trip of hers is successful, the firm will probably send her over three or four times a year. It's a wonderful chance for a kid like her." "Then I hope," said Heyl, quietly, "that this trip may be a failure." Ella smiled, uncertainly. "Don't laugh," said Fanny, sharply. "He means it."
"I must be a pretty sight. You're the second man to tell me that in two days." Heyl leaned forward a little. "That so? Who's the other one?" "Fenger, the General Manager." "Oh! Paternal old chap, I suppose. No? Well, anyway, I don't know what he had in mind, but you're going to spend Sunday at the dunes of Indiana with me." "Dunes? Of Indiana?" "There's nothing like them in the world. Literally.
The raw bean is roasted just before it is used and so keeps all its strength; it is pounded fine, much finer than you can grind it, in a mortar, with an iron pestle; lastly two smelling herbs, heyl and saffron are added when it is boiled just enough to give a flavour.
At that Heyl looked up with his singularly winning smile. "But different. Concede that, Fanny. Be fair, now. Refreshingly different." "Different," said Fanny, "doesn't begin to cover it. Well, now you're here, tell me what you're doing here." "Seeing you." "I mean here, in Chicago." "So do I. I'm on my way from Winnebago to New York, and I'm in Chicago to see Fanny Brandeis."
It was, after all, the urge of the stronger wish against the weaker. When he heard her voice over the telephone Heyl did not say, "Who is this?" Neither did he put those inevitable questions of the dweller to the transient, "Where are you? How long have you been here?" What he said was, "How're you going to avoid dining with me to-night?"
At that Clarence Heyl rose too, hurriedly, as one unaccustomed to the service, and stood with unbowed head, looking at the rabbi interestedly, thoughtfully, reverently. The two stood alone. Death had been kind to Congregation Emanu-el this year. The prayer ended. Fanny winked the tears from her eyes, almost wrathfully. She sat down, and there swept over her a feeling of finality.
Any boy scout knows that trick, and will tell you what I mean. It is the most effectual carrying method known, though unromantic. And so they came to Timberline Cabin, and Albert Edward Cobbins was in the doorway. Heyl put her down gently on the bench that ran alongside the table. The hospitable table that bore two smoking cups of tea.
There was our lady born: but sche was goten at Jerusalem. And be cause that oure lady was born at Nazarethe, therefore bare our Lord his surname of that town. There toke Josephe our lady to wyf, when sche was 14 zeere of age: and there Gabrielle grette our lady, seyenge, Ave Gratia plena, Dominus tecum; that is to seyne, Heyl fulle of Grace, oure Lord is with the.
"Don't expect me to believe that." Heyl put an arm on Fanny's desk and learned forward, his face very earnest. "I do expect you to believe it. I expect you to believe everything I say to you. Not only that, I expect you not to be surprised at anything I say. I've done such a mass of private thinking about you in the last ten years that I'm likely to forget I've scarcely seen you in that time.
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