“There’s nothing to be frightened at.” “It—it’s just that I’m frightened at—nothing—nothing at all.” A pause. “I wish you’d go to sleep.” “I suppose I shall after a while.” “How is your foot?” “Oh, better. I’m not conscious of it at all. It isn’t my foot that keeps me awake. It’s the hush of the stillnesses between the other sounds,” she whispered, as though the silence might hear her. “You never get those distinctions sleeping in a tent. I don’t think I’ve ever really known the woods before—or the meaning of silence. The world is poised in space holding its breath on the brink of some awful abyss. So I can’t help holding mine, too.” [28] [28] She sat upright and faced him. “You don’t mind if I talk, do you? I suppose you’ll think I’m very cowardly and foolish, but I want to hear a human voice. It makes things real somehow——” “Of course,” he laughed. He took out his watch and held it toward the fire with a practical air. “Besides it’s only ten o’clock.” “Oh,” she sighed, “I thought it was almost morning.” He silently rose and kicked the fire into a blaze. “It’s too bad you’re so nervous.” “That’s it. I’m glad you called it by a name. I’m glad you looked at your watch and that you kicked the fire. I had almost forgotten that there were such things as watches. I seem to have been poised in space, too, waiting and listening for something—I don’t know what—as though I had asked a great question which must in some way be answered.” Gallatin glanced at her silently, then slowly took out his pipe and tobacco. “Let’s talk,” he said quietly. But instead of taking
Prev.
Back
Top