Evening Star Newspaper, April 7, 1935, Page 82

- Vignette of Love A tender story by the author of “The Good Earth” and “ A House Divided” THROUGH the week, she did not for her looks, her hands or her . Only this one evening when waited for Andrew, did she feel were too rough with sewing k hair was grey under her t. She had a second’s thank- ings were as they were, y might not marry and live together, wear her hat, and so he need w heavy the grey was upon her a broad band of it over her , sweeping down to the very ends of her hair, and she was careful to keep her hands in her lap under the table. It was a quarter past seven o'clock. That ona December evening meant black darkness, The little restaurant on Lexington Awvenue was dimiy lit. But she was glad for that, too. In the wry mirror opposite her, the light felt kindly upon her face. She was still pretty in her soft way; there was still a childlike clear- ness in her brown eyes. When she was alone, when she woke in the morning and hurried, before she went to the dressmaker’s shop worked, to get the two rooms to 3 g?i:];? EE%EE BE BEEE s§§§ 25 | ] . : 1E8 i ek i%fgs Eaiks %53?% i i il ef &% HIY { ) § g : i : THIS WEEK by PEARL S. BUCK children home from school and hungry, and to her fretful mother —slowly as the days pnsed.shebegmtomwpmttyagain.l’or Saturday evening was coming, was near. At last it was come once more. Then she gave the children their nickels to go to the movies with their grandmother; then when they were gone, she bathed herself and dressed freshly from head to foot and dampened her hair and curled the ends around her ears; then she walked through the dark- ness if it were winter, and through the twilight if it were summer, and she met Andrew here at the restaurant. Sometimes he was before her; sometimes as tonight, she was first. It made no difference. It was harder for him to get away than for her. He had his petulant nagging wife to drag at him with questions and demands. She always knew how he was when he came in at the door. It would be any moment now. She glanced at the clock. Her heart stopped. It was agreed between them that if the other did not come in half an hour, something had happened to prevent the meeting. She had bent over the stove, frowsy, ill-tempered. The woman was talking and talking, and every now and then she flung up her head and screamed at one of the children, or at Andrew. She could not hear the words, but she could see the impatience, the movement of the jerked arm, the angry head. Every time Andrew passed the window he looked wildly out into the darkness, as if he knew her there. But he did not. She was crouched in the shadow, her heart aching to bursting. Ah, that had been a long week to wait! Five minutes were gone. Well, still she would not think what to do if he did not come. She looked about her. She would not think, She would look at the other people. Across the small room, against the wall sat two young things, a red-headed boy and a blonde girl. They were in love too. Strange how, when you were in love yourself, you knew it in everybody else! They were sitting side by Under the table their knees were pressed and the toe of her little shoe rested on his foot. She could see it. The girl was hanging on his every look. He was bragging boldly. Through the clatter of the restaurant, the woman caught fragments of his boasts. *‘And then I caught him under the chin — like this, see? It was a cinch. He went over — like that! bl Iltustration by Gerald Leake He held desperately to her hand. #I don’t give up hope, Ruth,” he said April 7, 1935 words; it was easy to see what they were: “I love you — I love you.”” The boy glanced about quickly and bent, pretending to mop up the water, and kissed her quickly. ‘The worman smiled to see it. She understood every mowvement, every look. There was nothing new in love, after all — it was all old and lovely and to be repeated over again and again, Its only newness lay in the new strength it brought wherever it came. g And then, just when she felt an intolerable pang of longing for Andrew and turned rest- lessly to the door, not daring to look at the clock, he came hurrying in, a slight dark tired-lookimg man, his black hair plainly white about his temples, and no hat to hide it. He came to her instant as a bird to its home. They had so little time. They began at once, with no words wasted. They had to know at once that the other was there, was unchanged, and was warm and ardent and loving. “Ruth — my darling!"” he cried under his breath. “I wish you could see how you look! When I came in your face was turned to me like a rose. You're a rose, you know. You always make me think of a rose. When I re- member what your life is, how you work — darling, darling, how can you keep your face like a rose, and your eyes such miracles for m?" She lookced into the wry mirror and laughed. She could see her face there under the brown would see tomorrow morning in the mirror. Yet this face was her own, her real face. They were themselves when they were together, instantly at ease. He slipped into his seat beside her and she felt his thigh against hers inst hers. She felt fc ER ?;g i g4 i Riggg 1) it Pl gRERE h £ §§§i§ BiE3. ] !Fig i g : 2 § y 75 Ex .Eg 58 g g Esgfi' i B ; | ? § night not. She was relieved. take her out. I just had to lieand say 1 had some work to finish at the office."” hour in the week, that is, if life were to go on at all. For the sake of them all, it was better to have this one hour. They could keep on with their duty six days in the week if in the seventh there were this hour. “So I had her invite Mrs. Hicks next door, and they went ( Continued on page 10) Comyvight, 1938, United Newspapers Magatine Corpavation