Ay, thou winsome one; yet even here may be wrought scars also in thy heart. Ah, thou most happy thou, to have a heart that may be thus scarred!
When womanhood, idled with such fearful ecstasies, quickened with the mystery of a new life, alarmed with chill dreads, yet pulsing to the rhythm of an added glory, realizes her lover as greater than lover—it is at this time of all times that he should be at her side. But Noll was taken up with trivial things; so trivial that he thought them serious—so far had he lost the focus of noble vision.
The garret was possessed with the gloomy announcement of a drizzling new day when Noll opened the door and entered.
Betty, crouching on her bed, held out her arms to him:
“Noll,” she began, tears in her eyes——
Noll went to her, caressed her, and sat himself down on the side of the bed.
He yawned.
He was very tired.
“Betty,” said he, heedless of the eagerness in her voice, deaf to the strange thrill in her being, his eyes on his own amusements, his thoughts on his own fatigue; “Betty, I am dog-weary—I have to be off again at six—I must snatch a couple of hours sleep.” He flung into an armchair, dressed as he was. “You might give me a rouse at six——”
He yawned again and was silent.