"Yes?" In wonder and hope, he gazed at her.
"Ted, I'll try to read—and—widen my interests. I'll be better."
Something warm grew in him.
"If you'll get a job."
The warmth receded. "Blackmail. Ann, you're incurable." He turned, and stalked off to his own bedroom. There, he sat on the bed and stared moodily at the wall, wondering about marriage.
When the light was out, he stood by his window a few seconds, looking down at the house below. All the windows were dark.
He was annoyed and frustrated and not a bit tired. But he was asleep five minutes after he hit the pillow. Just before he fell off, he thought he heard a scratching at the window.
There was an opalescent glow which seemed to come from the solid cloud barrier above. There was grass and a slope leading down to the stream. There was no sense of wonder in Ted.
Beyond the hills to his left, there seemed to be a darker area, as though there were cities there, and their resultant smog. But this was—pastoral, peaceful and still invigorating.
Willows bordered the stream and along the bend there were trees which resembled cottonwoods, though the bark was darker. Ted breathed easily, and there was no change in his weight he could notice.