Титан

Aileen’s Last Card

           Comingoutandgoingalongthebalconyoverthecourtoforchids,whereCowperwoodstillwasseated,sheenteredthesunriseroomwithitspoolofwater,itsbirds,itsbenches,itsvines.Lockingthedoor,shesatdownandthen,suddenlybaringanarm,jabbedaveinrippeditforinchesandsattheretobleed.Nowshewouldseewhethershecoulddie,whetherhewouldlether.

           Uncertain,astonished,notabletobelievethatshecouldbesorash,notbelievingthatherfeelingcouldbesogreat,Cowperwoodstillremainedwhereshehadlefthimwondering.HehadnotbeensogreatlymovedthetantrumsofwomenwerecommonandyetCouldshereallybecontemplatingdeath?Howcouldshe?Howridiculous!Lifewassostrange,somad.ButthiswasAileenwhohadjustmadethisthreat,andshehadgoneupthestairstocarryitout,perhaps.Impossible!Howcoulditbe?Yetbackofallhisdoubtstherewasakindofsickeningfeeling,adread.HerecalledhowshehadassaultedRitaSohlberg.

           Hehurriedupthestepsnowandintoherroom.Shewasnotthere.Hewentquicklyalongthebalcony,lookinghereandthere,untilhecametothesunriseroom.Shemustbethere,forthedoorwasshut.Hetriedititwaslocked.

           "Aileen,"hecalled."Aileen!Areyouinthere?"Noanswer.Helistened.Stillnoanswer."Aileen!"herepeated."Areyouinthere?Whatdamnednonsenseisthis,anyhow?"

           "George!"hethoughttohimself,steppingback;"shemightdoit,tooperhapsshehas.

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