I
I HAD a long conference with Phil the day after Susan's departure, and
we solemnly agreed that we must, within reasonable limits, give Susan a
clear field; her desire to play a lone hand in the cut-throat poker game
called life must be, so far as possible, respected. But we sneakingly
evaded any definition of our terms. "Within reasonable limits;" "so far
as possible"--the vagueness of these phrases will give you the measure
of our secret duplicity.
Meanwhile we lived on from mail delivery to mail delivery, and Susan
proved a faithful correspondent. There is little doubt, I think, that
the length and frequency of her letters constituted a deliberate
sacrifice of energy and time, laid--not reluctantly, but not always
lightly--on the altar of affection. It was a genuine, yet must often
have been an arduous piety. To write full life-giving letters late at
night, after long hours of literary labor, is no trifling effort of good
will--good will, in this instance, to two of the loneliest, forlornest
of men. Putting aside the mere anodyne of work we had but one other
effective consolation--Jimmy; our increasing interest and joy in Jimmy.
But, for me at least, this was not an immediate consolation; my taste
for Jimmy's prosaic companionship was very gradually acquired.
Our first word from Susan was a day letter, telephoned to me from the
telegraph office, though I at once demanded the delivery of a verbatim
copy by messenger. Here it is:
"_At grand central safe so far new york lies roaring just beyond sister
and togo tarry with the stuff near cab stand while I send. Love Mrs.
Arthur snooped in vain now for it courage Susan whos afraid dont you be
alonsen fan._"
Phil, the scholar, interpreted the last two verbatim symbols: "_Allons,
enfants!_"