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Updated: May 28, 2025
Paula's book lay beside her, but she had not offered to read. "Anything the matter?" he finally nerved himself to ask. "No; headache a beastly little neuralgic hurt across the eyes, that's all." "Too much embroidery," he teased. "Not guilty," was her reply.
Tell her that she is mistaken, and if you are Paula's friend and you come to see her but prettily, through the gate, and not through the hedge, for it will be closely twined again by to-morrow morning if you come here, I say, you will find that we have a great deal to do and a great many creatures to nurse and care for poor human creatures some of them, and some with fur or feathers, just as it comes; and man serves his Maker if he only makes life easier to the beings that come in his way; for He loves them all.
Paula's affairs had driven her own pretty well out of her mind. She had stopped thinking about Graham. She'd given over worrying about Rush. But she had not forgotten Anthony March.
In Paula's eyes he thought he detected a flicker of something he knew not what. Graham's face he found expressionless insofar as there was no apparent change of the expression of interest that had been there. "Woman has certainly found her St. George tonight," Graham complimented. "Leo, you shame me. Here I sit quietly by while you fight three dragons." "And such dragons," Paula joined in.
Though he had no suspicion of their meaning, they had haunted his thoughts incessantly during the last few days; and the terrible, strange words had seemed to charm his fancy, for to Paula's distress he would murmur them to himself tenderly or thoughtfully as the case might be.
What clandestine arrangements had been going on in his absence to produce such a full-blown intention it were futile to guess. Paula's course was a race rather than a march, and each successive heat was startling in its eclipse of that which went before.
That was one thing, at any rate, that had been put beyond discussion. Even the pundits were, for the moment anyhow, silenced. He was curious as to how the intimate details of this strange life she had a chance to observe, struck her. How she liked Paula's colleagues; to what extent the glamour evaporated when one was behind the scenes.
It was not in Paula's nature to think ill of others; but in this case her candid spirit, incapable of falsehood, would not suffer her to be anything but cool to the child; the more effusively Katharina clung to her, the more icily Paula repelled her.
"I think I got everything you want," Mary said from Paula's doorway, "or if not exactly, what will do just about as well." Paula, stretched out on the bed rather more than half undressed, with the contented languor of a well fed lioness yet with some passion or other smoldering in her eyes, made no pretense at being interested in Mary's success in executing her commissions.
"You can talk to me as you like," I answered, "but when Paula gets here I'll never speak to you again, and I'll tell her not to say a word to you either. I am mighty glad that Paula's a girl and not a disagreeable boy like you." "Oh, keep your Paula, much do I care!" replied Louis.
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