"Hen-ery--dream--bad--fish--Hen-ery--"
He drew her up to the side of the bed, covering her shivering knees as
she sat there, and throwing a blanket across her shoulders. Fortunately
he was aware that the soothing note in his voice helped, and so he sat
down beside her, stroking her hand, stroking, almost as if to hypnotize
her into quiet.
"Henry," she said, closing her fingers into his wrists, "I must have
dreamed--a horrible dream. Get back to bed, dear. I--I don't know what
ails me, waking up like that. That--fish! O God! Henry, hold me, hold
me."
He did, lulling her with a thousand repetitions of his limited store of
endearments, and he could feel the jerk of sobs in her breathing subside
and she seemed almost to doze, sitting there with her far hand across
her body and up against his cheek.
Then came knocks at the door, and hurried explanations through the slit
that he opened, and Mrs. Peopping's eye close to the crack.
"Everything is all right.... Just a little bad dream the missus had.
Pages:
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255