As Time Goes By Read Online Free PDF

she hoped? Was he here? What would Victor say if he found out? How would he react? What was she hoping for? That Rick had followed—or that he hadn't?
    She felt herself becoming upset and tried to calm down. She started to let herself believe that Rick had never received her note in Lisbon. That he was still back in Casablanca or, better yet, somewhere far away. That the accident of meeting him again and Rick's giv ing them the letters of transit was just that—an acci dent, proof of the tightness of Victor's cause, proof that her place was by Victor's side, now and forever, that... There, that was better, wasn't it?
    No, it wasn't. Rick had given her something she had never felt before. It wasn't just the physical joy she felt when she was with him. Rather, it was a closeness, a tenderness, a passion, an excitement far beyond the ca pacity of other men to give.
    With sudden insight she realized the truth: The way she felt about Rick was exactly the way Victor felt about the cause. It was one thing to love a cause, how ever; it was another to love a man. But which man did she really love? She struggled to sort out her feelings. Her head told her that while her heart might be con flicted, her duty was clear. Though she might love Rick, her place was with her husband. She had to show Victor that she was worthy of him and, even more im portant, worthy of his cause. Besides, she would never see Rick again, would she?
    Therefore, Ilsa decided, she would play a greater role in that cause. She was tired of being a pawn in a game played by men: this was not just a man's war, but everybody's. Were the Nazis sparing women in their assault on civilization? She knew from firsthand expe rience they were not. From now on this was Ilsa Lund's war, too.
    Just then the door opened and someone came in. She expected that it would be Mrs. Bunton, but it was not. It was Victor. "Are you all right, my dear?" he asked, sitting lightly on the bed beside her.
    "Yes, Victor," replied Ilsa. "I'm fine. In fact, I'm feeling quite myself again."
    "Good," Victor said. "I was worried about you. You looked so pale on the flight, so tired, that I feared you might be ill. The stress—"
    "Victor," said Ilsa, "there's something I need to say to you." She sat up and faced her husband. He smoothed the covers while he listened.
    "I don't know why we are here, or what you are planning," she began.
    "That is for your own safety," he interjected.
    She stopped by placing her right hand on his arm. "But that's just it!" she exclaimed. "I don't want it to be that way anymore! I am no longer the schoolgirl you fell in love with. I'm your wife. All over Europe, girls half my age are dying for what they believe in. How can I do any less?"
    "I don't know what you mean, Ilsa," Victor said.
    "I mean that I want to be a part of what you are a part of," she said, her words pouring forth. "If there is danger, I want to share it with you. If there is glory, I want to seek it with you."
    Victor shook his head. "That is impossible."
    "It is not," replied Ilsa, gripping her husband's arm. "You say you are grateful for all the things I have done for you, but I've only done what you've let me. I want to do more. You say you love me. Then prove it, by treating me like a woman and not like a child, by treat ing me like your wife instead of your daughter."
    For the first time since she had met him, Victor seemed confused and unsure of himself. "I can't," he said at last. "I cannot put you in such peril."
    Ilsa looked her husband in the eye. "You already have," she said. "What else have we shared but peril for the past year and a half? If I have already endured the danger, then let me share in the glory."
    Victor withdrew from her grasp and stood up. "You are certain this is what you want?"
    "I want the same thing that you want," she replied. "Nothing more, nothing less."
    Victor's self-control had reestablished itself. "Very well, then," he said. "Let us go downstairs together and meet