"Life is short, Becky; we must be happy while we got each other."
"Life is short, Julius, and for our children we should do all what we can. We can't always be with them, Julius. We—we must do the right thing by 'em. Like you say we—we're getting old—together, Julius. We don't want nothing to reproach ourselves with."
"Ya, ya, Becky."
Darkness fell thickly, like blue velvet portières swinging together, and stars sprang out in a clear sky.
They rocked in silence, their heads touching. The gray cat, with eyes like opals, sprang into the hollow of Mr. Binswanger's arm.
"Billy, you come to sit by mamma and me? Ni-ce Bil-ly!"
"We go in now, papa; in the damp you get rheumatism."
"Ya, ya, Becky—hear how he purrs, like an engine."
"Come on, papa; damper every minute it gets."
He rose with his rheumatic jerkiness, placed the cat gently on all fours on the floor, and closed his fingers around the curve of his wife's outstretched arm.