"What do you know of Naomi Clark to like or dislike?"
she asked curiously. "Did you ever see her?"
"Oh, yes," Felix replied, addressing himself to his cherry
preserve with considerable gusto. "I was down at Spruce Cove
one night last summer when a big thunderstorm came up.
I went to Naomi's house for shelter. The door was open,
so I walked right in, because nobody answered my knock.
Naomi Clark was at the window, watching the cloud coming
up over the sea. She just looked at me once, but didn't
say anything, and then went on watching the cloud.
I didn't like to sit down because she hadn't asked me to,
so I went to the window by her and watched it, too. It was
a dreadful sight--the cloud was so black and the water so green,
and there was such a strange light between the cloud and the water;
yet there was something splendid in it, too. Part of the time I
watched the storm, and the other part I watched Naomi's face.
It was dreadful to see, like the storm, and yet I liked to see it.
"After the thunder was over it rained a while longer,
and Naomi sat down and talked to me. She asked me who I was,
and when I told her she asked me to play something for her on
her violin,"--Felix shot a deprecating glance at Mr.
Pages:
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116