Dutton’s minute was always a variable quantity, and this time it
lengthened itself until the woman’s arms and shoulders ached, from the
unwonted strain. But she was glad of the interval--glad that only she
was forced to hear snatches of the conversation that took place in
the shop at the other side of the wall. One of the voices was low and
appealing, the other raucous with purposeful anger:
“I can’t see, my dear, why you want to go to Bromfield this summer,
when you have all your plans made to take the trip to St. Paul on the
boat. You have always refused to visit Bromfield.”
“That’s just it. You never want me to go anywhere--have any
pleasure--or even a vacation when you see that the work is killing me.
You gad around as much as you like. You’ve been away five times this
spring.”
“I certainly don’t go for pleasure, my dear.”
“Oh, don’t ‘my dear’ me! I’m sick and tired of it. That’s all I ever
get. You expect me to slave and stint myself and stay at home, so that
you and the children can make a big showing. And I’m supposed to be
happy and contented on your everlasting ‘my dears.’ I tell you, there’s
got to be a change in this family.”
“Who is there in Bromfield that you want to see?”
“I should think I might want to see my brother. And a daughter might
want to put flowers on her parents’ graves.”
“That isn’t it, Vine. Why don’t you tell me the truth? I would give you
anything in my power, that would make you happy. It’s this underhanded
way you have, that hurts me. I don’t care where you go or what you do,
if you’ll only--”
At that moment Dutton came from the garage, to be greeted by a volley
of questions and suggestions. Fortunately, as he worked, his deaf ear
was turned towards David Trench’s shop. Scarcely had the last nail
been driven when Mrs. Trench emerged from the building and strode
triumphantly towards the back stoop. For her the universe was a
straight line. Everything above, beneath and beside it had melted into
oblivion. The line ended in a point on the map of New York, known to
the initiate as Bromfield.