She filled up the glass with ginger ale, and returning to her
chair finished an article in the magazine. It concerned the last
revolutionary widow, who, when a young girl, had married an ancient
veteran of the Continental Army and who had died in 1906. It seemed
strange and oddly romantic to Gloria that she and this woman had been
contemporaries.
She turned a page and learned that a candidate for Congress was being
accused of atheism by an opponent. Gloria's surprise vanished when she
found that the charges were false. The candidate had merely denied the
miracle of the loaves and fishes. He admitted, under pressure, that he
gave full credence to the stroll upon the water.
Finishing her first drink, Gloria got herself a second. After slipping
on a negligee and making herself comfortable on the lounge, she became
conscious that she was miserable and that the tears were rolling down
her cheeks. She wondered if they were tears of self-pity, and tried
resolutely not to cry, but this existence without hope, without
happiness, oppressed her, and she kept shaking her head from side to
side, her mouth drawn down tremulously in the corners, as though she
were denying an assertion made by some one, somewhere.
Pages:
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559