His tongue seemed the fork of a snake, his words came with such deadly
coldness....
"It will end to-night."
"How ... to-night?"
"I'm leaving.... I'm going west...."
"West.... Where?"
"To Sam's...."
"Oh," said his mother....
There was a long cruel silence. He shut his eyes, overcome with a sort
of horror.... Then she turned her face a little away, and he heard the
faintly breathed words....
"This is the end of me...."
Still he said nothing. She turned toward him, with a groan.
"Have you nothing to say?"
Again he spoke with deadly coldness....
"Nothing...."
She waited a moment: then she spoke....
"You have no feelings. When you set out to do a thing, you will trample
over every one. I have never been able to do anything with you. You may
become a great man, Paul: but I pity any one who loves you, any one who
gets in your path. You will kill whatever holds you--always.... I was a
fool to give birth to you: a great fool to count on you.... Well, it's
over.... You have your way...."
He was amazed: he trembling there, guilty, afraid, horrified, his whole
soul beseeching the comfort of her arms! He a cold trampler?
He stood, with all the feeling of one who is falsely condemned, and yet
with all the guilt of one who has sinned....
And then, suddenly, a wild animal cry came from his mother's throat....
"Oh," she cried, "how terrible it is to have children!"
His heart echoed her cry.... The executioner's knife seemed to strike
his throat....
He stood a long while in the silence.... Then his mother turned in the
bed, sideways, and covered her face with the counterpane.... His sister
rose up stiffly, whispering:
"She's going to sleep."
He stood, dead.... He turned like a wound-up mechanism, went to the
door, picked up his valise, and fumbled his way through the house....
The outer door he shut very softly....
He must take the Lexington Avenue car. Yes; that was the quickest way.
He faced west. The great wind of autumn came with a glorious gusto,
doubtless with flying seeds and flying leaves, chanting the song of the
generations, and of them that die and of them that are born.