From her window, Mary Valentine watched the moon go up. She could have named every hill as the pale light picked it out, but her mind was too absent for that. Voices sounded in other parts of the house, but she heard them as from a great distance. All the world was blurred for her and had been blurred for many days. Sometimes she found herself wondering at the change that had come over her; sometimes she would waken in the middle of the night with an old hunted feeling. But there was nothing on which she could put her finger and say: This or that has happened. It simply seemed that she had drifted into a new life, misted with unhappiness.
No wonder then that the knock was twice repeated before she called, and the door opened to Morgan Valentine. He came slowly across the room to her.
“Sitting here in the dark?” he asked.
“It is dark. I was watching the sunset. I didn't notice how the time ran.”
He waited a moment. Then: “They's a caller for you, Mary.”
“I'm not feeling like callers, Uncle Morgan.”
“Honey, I wish you'd make an exception.”
She rose. After all, it made little difference. Except that she had grown to have a singular preference for being alone.
“I do wish it. You're going to fly out at me for asking you to see him when I tell you his name.”
“I won't fly out at you. I'll promise that.”
“Oh, girl, sometimes I almost wish you would have the old tantrums. Well, it's Joe Norman.”
“I—I couldn't help it. Joe Norman!”
An intolerable disgust crept into her voice.
“He's a pile changed, honey. He asked me to see Charlie first. He shook hands with Charlie—told him he knew he'd been in the wrong—that he was sorry so many things had come out of it. Charlie shook hands right off and now they ain't any malice between 'em. Will you see him, Mary?”
“I'll tell you why. I sort of feel that if you shake hands with Joe Norman and call it quits we'll all get back to the old standing. Same as we used to be before all these things happened—all these things that begun with the shooting of Joe Norman.”
She shook her head, but in the darkness he did not see.
“I'll go out and see him, then.”
They went out through the living room.
