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Hurst, Fannie, 1889-1968

"The Vertical City"

A bar of sunshine lay across the bed, and Gerald
pronounced each "I will" in a lifted voice that carried to the four
corners of the little room. She was allowed to stay that night past
hospital hours, and they talked with the dusk flowing over them.
"Hester, Hester," he said, "I should have had the strength to hold out
against your making this terrible sacrifice."
"It's the happiest hour of my life," she said, kissing him.
"I feel well enough to get up now, sweetheart."
"Gerald, don't force. You've weeks ahead before you are ready for that."
"But to-morrow, dear, home! In whose car are you calling for me
to-morrow to take me _home_?"
"In a friend's, dearest."
"Won't I be crowding up our little apartment? Describe it again to me,
dearest--our _home_."
"It's so little, Gerald. Three rooms and the littlest, babiest kitchen.
When you're once up, I'll teach its every corner to you."
Tears seeped through the line where his lids had been, and it was almost
more than she could bear.


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