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Updated: May 10, 2025
Banneker answered her smile with his own, as he resumed his dish-wiping. Io wrote out her telegram with care. Her next observation startled the agent. "Are you, by any chance, married?" "No; I'm not. What makes you ask that?" "There's been a woman in here before." Confusedly his thoughts flew back to Carlotta. But the Mexican girl had never been in the shack.
"You do care for Carlotta then?" probed Tony. "Care! I'm crazy over her. I'd go on my hands and knees to Crest House if I thought I could get her to marry me by doing it." "You would much better go by train the next one. That's my advice. Are you coming to Sue Emerson's dance? That is why I am buying slippers. You can dance with 'em if you'll come." "Sorry. I don't go to dances any more."
"Oh, for heaven's sake, I hope you're not going to start that old argument again," exclaimed Carlotta defensively. "What's the use beginning on that? We've been all over it a thousand times. I can't go anywhere or do anything but what you want to fuss. Now I'm not coming up there to do anything but rest. Why will you always start in to spoil everything?"
Poor, wretched, despairing, crushed Carlotta! The uproar in the house was indescribable. If the thing had happened to any one but Carlotta, she would have been hooted.
Gone were all the fine dreams of pleasure and happiness which so recently had been so real the hope of living with Carlotta the hope of associating with her on easy and natural terms in that superior world which she represented.
One noontime Eugene walked down to the little post office at Speonk to look for a letter, for Carlotta had not been able to meet him the previous day and had phoned instead that she would write the following day. He found it safely enough, and after glancing at it it contained but few words decided to tear it up as usual and throw the pieces away.
I resolved to quit it, to leave my books, to abjure Renaissance morals, and to go forth with Carlotta into the wilderness and the sunshine, there to fulfil whatever destiny the high gods should decree. Again I sit on the housetop in Mogador on the Morocco coast, where a month ago I began to write these latter pages. Time has passed quickly since that day.
I have not a spark of sympathy for Harry a callow, egotistical dealer in currants. He ought to have blown out his brains a year ago. He has behaved in a most unconscionable manner. How does he expect me to break the news to Carlotta? His selfishness is appalling.
Mechanically she counted the cars of the train which was winding its black, snake-like trail far down below them in the valley. It hadn't occurred to her that the moon would be difficult to dislodge. Perhaps Carlotta didn't know much about moons, after all. Phil went on talking earnestly, putting his case before her as best he might.
When they returned ten minutes afterwards, Carlotta was smiling and self-possessed, evidently very well pleased with herself, but Judith had a red spot on each of her cheeks. The sight of her smote me with an odd new feeling of pity. I cannot dismiss the vision from my mind. All the evening I have seen the two women standing side by side, a piteous parable.
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