His head was back as if his throat were open to the stroke of her words, but there was that growing in his face which was enormous, translucent, even apogean.
He tore up the paper between them, slowly, and in criss crosses.
"And you, Blossom?" he said, not taking his eyes, with their growing lights, off her.
"Why, I'll be waiting, Hal," she said, the pink coming out to flood her face, "I'll be waiting—Sweetheart."
[signed] Fannie Hurst
The Married Slacker
[This is a comic strip in three panels. I'll do my best to describe each panel and then put the text which comes beneath the panel.]
[Panel 1: A man and woman sit at a meal with pictures of Washington and Lincoln glowering from the wall in the man's full view behind the woman. The woman is reading a paper. The man is listening, but not looking at the woman, rather at his meal in front of him. A maid brings coffee cups on a platter.]
SHE (reading)—"At 5:15, the barrage was raised, and the Americans advanced to attack. The long line moved forward like the steady on-sweep of the tide—unwavering, irresistible, implacable." Oh, isn't it perfectly wonderful! I knew our men would fight gloriously! And just listen to this:
[Panel 2: The images of Washington and Lincoln have doubled in size and the eyes clearly glare at the man. The man now shows beads of sweat around his head and wears an expression of distress. The woman continues to read the paper. The maid departs the scene having delivered the coffee cups.]