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Updated: May 31, 2025
"You'll have to hurry, Harold," she finished, standing in the doorway. "Why?" he asked a trifle impatiently; "you're not dressed yourself yet, Evie." He stretched out in a Morris chair and unfolded a newspaper. With a sinking sensation Evylyn saw that this meant at least ten minutes and Gedney was standing breathless in the next room.
And in that instant it was as if this were not, after all, Donald's hour except in so far as he was a marker in the insidious contest that had gone on in sudden surges and long, listless interludes between Evylyn and this cold, malignant thing of beauty, a gift of enmity from a man whose face she had long since forgotten.
Her mouth also had lost: the red had receded and the faint down-turning of its corners when she smiled, that had added to the sadness of the eyes and been vaguely mocking and beautiful, was quite gone. When she smiled now the corners of her lips turned up. Back in the days when she revelled in her own beauty Evylyn had enjoyed that smile of hers she had accentuated it.
They were all listening attentively. Evylyn broke in at the first gap. "Where've you been living, Mr. Ahearn?" she asked interestedly. Then she remembered that Mrs. Ahearn had told her, but it didn't matter. Harold mustn't talk so much. He was such an ASS when he'd been drinking. But he plopped directly back in. "Tell you, Ahearn. Firs' you wanna get a house up here on the hill.
A few years before she had been frightened at the idea of going to school, and Evylyn could not bring herself to send her, so she grew up in her mother's shadow, a pitiful little figure with the artificial hand that she made no attempt to use but kept forlornly in her pocket.
When she stopped accentuating it, it faded out and the last of her mystery with it. Evylyn had ceased accentuating her smile within a month after the Freddy Gedney affair. Externally things had gone an very much as they had before. But in those few minutes during which she had discovered how much she loved her husband, Evylyn had realized how indelibly she had hurt him.
The surge of love that had risen in her she lavished on Donald, her little boy, realizing him almost wonderingly as a part of her life. The next year a piling up of mutual interests and responsibilities and some stray flicker from the past brought husband and wife together again but after a rather pathetic flood of passion Evylyn realized that her great opportunity was gone.
Ahearn's voice drifted in on her: "I really would like the recipe if you have it written down somewhere " Then there was a sound of chairs in the dining-room and the men strolled in. Evylyn saw at once that her worst fears were realized.
I can see other people's points of view too plainly." His gray eyes met her dark ones frankly. "The blessed thing's over. My God, Evylyn, I've been sitting down at the office all day looking at the outside of your letter, and looking at it and looking at it " "You've got to go, Fred," she said steadily, and the slight emphasis of hurry in her voice was a new thrust for him.
As in most families whose fortunes have gone down rather than up, she and Harold had drifted into a colorless antagonism. In repose they looked at each other with the toleration they might have felt for broken old chairs; Evylyn worried a little when he was sick and did her best to be cheerful under the wearying depression of living with a disappointed man.
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