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Young, E. H. (Emily Hilda), 1880-1949

"The Bridge Dividing"

'
'And I forgot about it!' He stared at her in amazement. 'I forgot
about it! I didn't hear it! Good heavens! But come away quickly before
I begin remembering.'
That they might be able to tell the truth, they went to the concert
and, standing at the back of the hall stayed there for a little while.
Even for Charles, the music was only a covering for his thoughts.
Henrietta, strangely gentle, was beside him, but he dwelt less on that
than on the greater marvel of the new power he felt within himself.
She might laugh at him, she might mock him in the future, but she
could not daunt him, and though she might never love him, he had done
her service. No one could take that from him. He turned his head and
looked down at her, to find her looking up at him, a little puzzled
but entirely friendly.
'Oh, Henrietta!' he whispered loudly, transgressing his own law of
silence and evoking an indignant hiss from an enthusiastic neighbour.
He blushed with shame, then decided that to-night he could not really
care, and signing to Henrietta to follow him, he tiptoed from the
hall.
'Did you hear? Did you hear?' he asked her. 'I spoke! I--at a concert!
I've never done that in my life before. I'll never do it again! But,
then, it was the first time you'd ever looked at me like that,
Henrietta! And, oh Lord, we've forgotten the bag. I dare not go back
for it.'
'We'll leave it, then,' she said indifferently. 'I don't want to see
it again.


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