“Not directly. But Emma was essentially feminine; essentially evasive. You aren’t.”
“No,” she admits, serenely.
The silence is becoming dangerous.
“Heavens!” she cries, suddenly. “I had no idea it was so late. I’ll have to go.”
“Wait until this log burns down,” you suggest. “You surely aren’t in such a hurry as all that. I’m afraid to be left alone. You’ve no idea how lonely an old man can get in a few minutes.”
She laughs. “Well, I’ll wait for a little. I hate to leave the fire. I’m getting old, too.”
“Besides, you’re a very busy person and I haven’t really seen you all year. I think I’ve just realized how nice an evening like this could be. I think I’ve been waiting for this for days, without knowing it. I feel much better, really.”
“I’m so glad,” she says, seriously. “I’ve been a little bit blue, myself.”
“You?” Incredulous. “I didn’t know that you ever felt blue. What on earth were you blue about?”
“Oh, I’m such a useless person. I don’t really do a damned thing. I’ve been thinking all day about things. And then when I see people like you and Emma having your troubles too—you were two people that I always thought of as being fulfilled, sort of. Now it seems to take away my last hope. Emma’s my best friend, in a way, and now I find that you’ve both been very unhappy. It just fits in with everything else.”