“Now that the sun was out again and the hood and side-curtains kept the wind from her face she felt warm and tired and increasingly sleepy. That wasn’t really to be wondered at because there hadn’t been much sleep for herself or for Bret last night and they’d had to be up again at the crack of dawn— Why had they argued, talked, torn themselves and each other to shreds with words that got them nowhere— Poor Bret—! And there was another emotion! Compassion! Heavens! why couldn’t you be made so tha...t you could only have one feeling at a time? Was it any wonder that people did crazy things when their whole nervous make-up was being lashed this way and that by a dozen conflicting cross-currents of emotion? There she’d stood in front of Bret last night and felt – what? Well, first and last, of course, love for him, a small, steady-burning flame. From that came all the torture – and all the joy. Dread of an embrace without meaning, dread of what it might do to her, of a flame extinguished and a sudden darkness.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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