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much more so than on the many evenings I had spent alone while Jim was out at some meeting.
I tried to read, but I couldn't keep my mind on the story in the magazine I picked up. At last, bored and restless, I went to bed, to sleep fitfully. Just before dawn I heard Kane's footsteps, strangely light for so big a man, come through the house and go softly past my door and upstairs. It was as if I had been waiting for them, for immediately afterwards I slipped into a comforting slumber.
The next day, Friday, I got Dickie off to school and gave the house a thorough cleaning. I felt as if I wanted to be busy — very busy, to make myself forget that soon Kane would come down and once again we'd be experiencing the false, disturbingly lovely intimacy of the night before.
And suddenly I stopped dusting, the cloth dangling from a slack hand.
I had remembered that on Friday nights Kane did not work.
Mechanically, I again began running the dust-cloth over the mantelpiece. I thought, "This is crazy! What am I thinking of? Kane will probably go downtown right after supper, just as he usually does on his nights off . . . And suppose he doesn't? What of it? ... I could decide to take Dickie to a movie . . ."
IN the mirror over the table I saw my own face. It was so drawn and white it frightened me.
Because I knew I did not want Kane to go downtown, and neither did I want to take Dickie to a movie if Kane decided to stay home.
That evening, after supper, he might almost have been repeating words he'd read in my mind when he said, "You don't mind, do you, if I stick around the house tonight? It's pretty raw and mean outdoors — "
"Of course not," I said as lightly as I could. "You can build a fire in the living room if you want to."
"Not a bad idea," he agreed, and went to do it, accompanied by Dickie, while I cleared the table.
"I think I'll stay up an hour or so later than usual," Dickie announced with careful casualness when they returned. "I don't feel very sleepy."
Above Dickie's head, Kane was grinning in appreciation of my son's roundabout method of getting permission to stay up. I glanced down at the round, too-innocent face and couldn't help smiling too. "All right," I said almost thankfully. "Since it's Friday night. I'll tell you what — we'll pop some corn after a while."
But there came a time when, after all the corn had been popped and eaten, Dickie's head began to droop and I had to take him, protesting stoutly that he wasn't sleepy at all, to bed. When I returned, Kane was in the big armchair in front of the fireplace, long legs stretched out to the blaze. He didn't look up.
"Get the boy to bed?" he asked.
"Yes," I said, "but not asleep yet."
Kane chuckled. "He's a swell little kid . . . You know what I've been sitting here thinking?"
"No— what?"
"That Jim's a pretty lucky guy. The only thing is — " and with a swift, smooth movement he was on his feet beside me — "I don't think he knows just how lucky."
I said nervously, "Maybe he just doesn't show it." Get out, get out! a voice inside me was warning. Go to your room, close the door. Almost
APRIL. 1943
Face flattery on the double-quick
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