Hamilton was very white, a nervous smile about the corners of his mouth. Mrs. Hamilton gave his arm a little pat:
“Everything will be all right.”
Robert was conscious of her watching him as he hurried up the walk and into the doorway. He could see the patterns of the stone blocks and the lines made by the moss. The branch of an oak tree hung over him and he heard birds chirping in the rustling foliage. Life seemed to pause, to hang between the ticking of a watch. He heard insects humming.
The operator was reading the message, mechanically, by syllables, so that they barely made sense. But he understood. The operation had been successful! He ran out of the house excitedly, waving his arms and sputtering. His mother understood. They both talked excitedly for a moment without listening to each other.
“I knew it would be all right. I knew it would be all right,” Mrs. Hamilton was repeating over and over again.
“Let’s have some one over here tonight,” said Robert excitedly. “Didn’t we use to know some one named McCall?”
“McCall?”
“Or something like that? I must call up Margaret.”
“You don’t mean the McFallons?”
“Yes, I haven’t seen them since I came back. Don’t they come here any more?”