In the dark she put, I am
sure, her hand on his arm, and felt his strength and took her small
hurried steps beside his long ones. He did not, I expect, feel her hand
on his sleeve at all. It was Vera whom he saw through the dusk. Vera
watching the door for his return, knowing that his eyes would rush to
hers, that every beat of his heart was for her....
I found them all seated at dinner when I entered. I brought them the
news of the shooting up at the Nicholas Station.
"Perhaps, we had better not go to the theatre," I said. "A number of
people were killed this afternoon, and all the trams are stopped."
Still it was all remote from us. They laughed at the idea of not going
to the theatre. The tickets had been bought two weeks ago, and the walk
would be pleasant. Of course we would go. It would be fun, too, to see
whether anything were happening.
With how strange a clarity I remember the events of that evening. It is
detached and hangs by itself among the other events of that amazing
time, as though it had been framed and separated for some especial
purpose. My impression of the colour of it now is of a scene intensely
quiet.
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