"No, Charles." But the man knew she meant yes. The touch of her hand grew cold.
"I"m tired of it all. I want to feel again the wonder and mystery of life. It"s all gone. The love we have now is good and sweet and true; that of the old time was sweeter. It was so marvelous. I trembled when I kissed you, dear. I don"t now. It had more of truth, of pure, unconscious pa.s.sion, and less of habit. Oh, teach me to forget!"
He crept nearer to her, and laid his head in her lap. His face was knotted with his pa.s.sion and pain.
The wife and mother sighed, and looked down at his hair, which was getting white.
"Well, Charles!" she said, and caressingly buried her fingers in his hair. "I"ll try to forget for your sake."
He could not understand her. He did not try. He lay with closed eyes, tired, purposeless. The sweet sea wind touched his cheek, white with the indoor pallor of the desk worker. The sound of the sea exalted him. The beautiful clouds above him carried him back to boyhood. There were tears on his face as he looked up at her.
"I"m forgetting!" he said, with a smile of exultation.
But the woman looked away at the violet-shadowed sails, afar on the changeful purple of the sea, and her throat choked with pain.
THE END