Ralph interrupted.
"I won't answer your questions in fun either. But you do what Helen
says. Come out to the works."
Perhaps it was because she had expected too much, but Helen was
disappointed in the morning. Certain things had been disquieting.
Ralph's words "For the sake of old times, if for nothing else"--had at
first annoyed her. The annoyance changed to a questioning disquietude.
The very annoyance suggested possibilities which had never distinctly
occurred to her before. She did not, she could not resent it as she
would like to do. She could not avoid a comparison between the clear,
steady eyes of Ralph Winston and the glowing, shifting ones of Elijah
Berl which had moved her so profoundly.
The contrast between the two men forced itself upon her. The convincing
alertness of Ralph Winston, clear and cool and bracing, the glowing
mystical enthusiasm of Elijah Berl that breathed upon her, laid hold
upon her like languorous exhalations from a tropic growth. She recalled
her childhood days with Ralph Winston. His masterful ways which flashed
out in open revolt against her impetuous temper, that took her in his
arms and in spite of her panting protests, soothed her into forgiving
smiles. There was no yielding to her wrongs, no tyranny in his right,
but a subtle stimulating air that suggested no personality, rather an
impersonal force which compelled him, even as it did her.
There were tears in her eyes now. There was a great longing to go to
Ralph as she had gone years ago, to hear again the words which had
melted her darkness into clear light. An almost irresistible impulse
came to her. "Why not go to him now?" He had opened the way. A word, a
motion, a glance from her eyes and the way would open again. She rose to
her feet and laid her hand upon the door.
Had Winston been in the hotel that night! But he was miles away and she
returned to her seat. Her brain went on and on, twisting and turning the
same old problem. Ralph knew Elijah Berl, yet he had cast in his lot
with him. Ralph trusted in his own strength, why should not she trust in
hers? She drew a long, shuddering breath. Elijah had asked her for
bread. Could she give him a stone?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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