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Hurst, Fannie, 1889-1968

"The Vertical City"

I shopped it for you, too."
"Give me your hand," he said, and pressed a string of close kisses into
its palm.
The simplicity of the outrageous subterfuge amazed even her. She held
hothouse grapes at two dollars a pound to his lips, and he ate them
through a smile.
"Naughty, extravagant girl!" he said.
"I saw them on a fruit stand for thirty cents, and couldn't resist."
"Never mind; I'll make it up to you."
Later, he asked for braille books, turning his sightless face toward her
as he studied, trying to concentrate through the pain in his lung.
"If only you wouldn't insist upon the books awhile yet, dear. The doctor
says it's too soon."
"I feel so strong, Hester, with you near, and, besides, I must start the
pot boiling."
She kissed down into the high nap of his hair, softly.
Evenings, she read to him newspaper accounts of his fellow-soldiers, and
the day of the peace, for which he had paid so terribly, she rolled his
bed, alone, with a great tugging and straining, to the open window,
where the wind from the river could blow in against him and steamboat
whistles shoot up like rockets.


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