"Can I stay with you, Mary?" Big tears stood in Helen's eyes and she
seemed on the verge of a complete breakdown.
"Of course, Honey-bunch!" Mary responded, kissing her and leading her
into the drawing-room. "Just go in there and lie down while I get my
things."
As Helen walked from the room, Jim came in. Mary turned toward us,
looked us over for the briefest moment and whispered, "You men are
brutes!" As she ran up-stairs, Jim gazed after her. That same gray
look had come back into his face.
"I guess we are," he said, shaking his head, "but I don't know how or
why."
I patted him on the shoulder and went for my coat. Whether he realized
it or not, I knew Helen would never come back to him.
I went out to the car and turned on the lights. A white moon was
sailing through a sky cluttered with puffy clouds, its soft radiance
bathing the house and grounds in mellow loveliness. It all seemed so
remote from the sordid quarrel inside that its beauty was enhanced by
the contrast. Here was a night when the whole world should be in love.
Nature herself conspired to that end. And yet, there were thousands of
men and women who were so forgetful of everything except their own
petty differences that they turned their backs to the beauty around
them, in order to try to hurt each other.
As Helen and Mary came out of the door, I climbed into the car and said
to myself, "Damn men, damn women, damn everything!"