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'Oh, never mind. 'David, open the street-door. The eldest boy sprang up joyously. It would have been too bad of mother to keep Elijah on the doorstep. 'No, no, David! Golda stopped him. 'It is too heavy; he could not undo the bolts and bars. 'You have barred it? Ben Amram asked. 'And why not? In this season you know how the heathen go mad like street-dogs. 'Pooh! They will not bite us.
"This girl I've been talking to this morning," Wallace supplied impatiently; "Golda White." "Who is she?" Martie asked, bewildered, as his heavy voice stopped on the name. "Oh, she's a girl I used to know! I haven't seen her for eight or ten years since I left Portland, in fact." "But who IS she, Wallie?"
Perhaps the hardest moment of the hard weeks was when she realized that the tension was not snapped, after all. Wallace wrote affectionately, but with maddening vagueness. He missed his girl, he had a rotten cold, he was not working now. Golda was raising hell.
She finished the little article, and called it "Give Her A Job!" It was only what she had attempted to express during her first return visit to Monroe years ago; during those days and nights of fretting when the thought of Golda White had ridden her troubled thoughts like an evil dream. Later, she had re-written the article, just before Wallace's return from long absence to New York.
I got a copy of her marriage license from the Registrar and if Mrs. Golda White Ferguson ever turns up again we'll see who does the talking about bigamy! The she-devil! And I told you about meeting Dawson?" "Oh, God, I thank Thee I thank Thee!" Martie was breathing to herself, her eyes closed. "Dawson?" she asked, when he repeated the name.
Martie opened tired eyes to watch him, but he did not meet her look. "Golda and I went together for about a year," he said, "and finally she got to talking as if we were going to be married. One day it was a rainy day in the office, and I had a cold, and she fixed me up something hot to drink she got to crying, and she said her stepfather had ordered her out of the house.
'But, Aaron! You heard about the lost Christian child! 'I have saved many a Christian child, Golda. 'They will not remember that. 'But I must remember the ritual. And he made a movement. 'No, no, Aaron! Listen! The shrill noises seemed to have veered round towards the front of the house. He shrugged his shoulders. 'I hear only the goats bleating. She clung to him as he made for the door.
You see that! Oh, dearest, if you knew " "Get you away! Why, you're going with me! We're going to New York!" Her bewildered eyes were fixed upon him with dawning hope. "But Golda!" she said. "Oh, Golda!" He dismissed the adventuress impatiently. "Now I'll tell you all about that some time, dear "
White-bearded, clad in a long white robe and a white skullcap, and throned on white pillows, he made rather a royal figure, indeed for this night of nights conceived of himself as 'King' and his wife as 'Queen. But 'Queen' Golda, despite her silk gown and flowery cap, did not share her consort's majestic mood, still less the rosy happiness of the children who sat round this fascinating board.
He got up, and restlessly circled the room, drawing the shade that was rattling gently at the window, flinging his coat across a chair. Then he went back, and sat down by the bed again, locking his dropped hands loosely between his knees, and looking steadily at the worn old colourless carpet. "You see this Golda " he began. "Golda who?" Martie echoed.
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