There were weeks and even months of
their first year together that later passed out of Sam's memory entirely,
leaving only a sense of completeness and well being. He could remember,
perhaps, a winter walk in the moonlight by the frozen lake, or a visitor
who sat and talked an evening away by their fire. But at the end he had to
come back to this: that something sang in his heart all day long and that
the air tasted better, the stars shone more brightly, and the wind and the
rain and the hail upon the window panes sang more sweetly in his ears. He
and the woman who lived with him had wealth, position, and infinite
delight in the presence and the persons of each other, and a great idea
burned like a lamp in a window at the end of the road they travelled.
Meanwhile, in the world about him events came and went. A president was
elected, the grey wolves were being hunted out of the Chicago city
council, and a strong rival to his company flourished in his own city. In
other days he would have been down upon this rival fighting, planning,
working for its destruction. Now he sat at Sue's feet, dreaming and
talking to her of the brood that under their care should grow into
wonderful reliant men and women.
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