He put his arms about her—and once more, as a long time ago, they were swept together in a passionate embrace, that sought by its very pain to impress this moment on their souls, to annihilate time and space for them, and make them remember it always.... And then Felix was outside on the platform, and she was waving him a cheerful good-bye. 2 Back in his apartment, where he had not been since morning, he found a note from Clive, asking him to come out and spend the week-end in Woods Point. Clive had thrown up his job on the Chronicle to write his long postponed novel. As he had told it, he and Phyllis had tossed up a penny to decide which should come first—his novel or her baby ... and he had lost. The invitation annoyed Felix. He didn’t want to go to Woods Point to hear about Clive’s novel. He sat down at his desk and took out the manuscript of his unfinished play. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ LXI. Two Men Discuss a Girl 1 THERE was one thing about writing which Felix felt had never been done justice to by those who had praised the art of literature—it could quite astonishingly fill up the hollow emptiness of one’s idle hours. This quality, to be sure, it shared with drinking, opium-smoking, mathematics, pure science, pre-pragmatic philosophy, chess and the collecting of first editions, Japanese prints and postage stamps. But it was less debilitating than drink and philosophy; a surer refuge than chess; and there were no auctions to attend. Moreover one could work out the third act of a play with a triumphant certitude and power such as is denied to people who are engaged in trying to work out conclusions in their personal lives. When he finished his play, late in January, he was appalled to find that he had nothing with which to occupy his spare time.... Of course, he might write his play over again. But he was angry at that play, now he had finished it. It had ended happily. Couldn’t one end anything happily except on paper? On a sudden impulse, he went to the railway station one evening and inquired what time a train left for Springfield. He had got to thinking of Rose-Ann’s father. For some reason he wanted to see him.... He found that there was a train leaving in half an hour which would reach Springfield in the middle of the night.... He wanted to see Rose-Ann’s father: if he waited to make sensible arrangements and pack a bag, something would happen to keep him from going.... He bought a ticket, feeling of his unshaven cheek with ink-stained fingers and reflecting that he looked like a tramp—and went aboard the train. 2 The streets of Springfield were covered with new fallen snow. There were apparently no street cars running at that hour. Felix started to walk toward the Prentiss residence.