My Sister's Hand in Mine Read Online Free PDF Page B

her husband say:
    â€œWe will go to Panama and linger there awhile before we penetrate into the interior.” Mrs. Copperfield pressed Miss Goering’s hand.
    â€œI don’t think I can bear it,” she said. “Really, Miss Goering, it frightens me so much to go.”
    â€œI would go anyway,” said Miss Goering.
    Mrs. Copperfield jumped off the arm of the chair and ran into the library. She locked the door behind her carefully and then she fell in a little heap on the sofa and sobbed bitterly. When she had stopped crying she powdered her nose, seated herself on the window-sill, and looked down into the dark garden below.
    An hour or two later Arnold, the stout man in the blue suit, was still talking to Miss Goering. He suggested to her that they leave the party and go to his own house. “I think that we will have a much nicer time there,” he said to her. “There will be less noise and we will be able to talk more freely.”
    As yet Miss Goering had no desire at all to leave, she enjoyed so much being in a room full of people, but she did not quite know how to get out of accepting his invitation.
    â€œCertainly,” she said, “let’s be on our way.” They rose and left the room together in silence.
    â€œDon’t say anything to Anna about our leaving,” Arnold told Miss Goering. “It will only cause a commotion. I promise you I’ll send some sweets to her tomorrow, or some flowers.” He pressed Miss Goering’s hand and smiled at her. She was not sure that she did not find him a bit too familiar.
    *   *   *
    After leaving Anna’s party, Arnold walked awhile with Miss Goering and then hailed a cab. The road to his home led through many dark and deserted streets. Miss Goering was so nervous and hysterical about this that Arnold was alarmed.
    â€œI always think,” said Miss Goering, “that the driver is only waiting for the passengers to become absorbed in conversation in order to shoot down some street, to an inaccessible and lonely place where he will either torture or murder them. I am certain that most people feel the same way about it that I do, but they have the good taste not to mention it.”
    â€œSince you live so far out of town,” said Arnold, “why don’t you spend the night at my house? We have an extra bedroom.”
    â€œI probably shall,” said Miss Goering, “although it is against my entire code, but then, I have never even begun to use my code, although I judge everything by it.” Miss Goering looked a little morose after having said this and they drove on in silence until they reached their destination.
    Arnold’s flat was on the second floor. He opened the door and they walked into a room lined to the ceiling with bookshelves. The couch had been made up and Arnold’s slippers were lying on the rug beside it. The furniture was heavy and some small Oriental rugs were scattered here and there.
    â€œI sleep in here,” said Arnold, “and my mother and father occupy the bedroom. We have a small kitchen, but generally we prefer to eat out. There is another tiny bedroom, originally intended for a maid’s room, but I would rather sleep in here and let my eye wander from book to book; books are a great solace to me.” He sighed heavily and laid both his hands on Miss Goering’s shoulders. “You see, my dear lady,” he said, “I’m not exactly doing the kind of thing that I would like to do.… I’m in the real-estate business.”
    â€œWhat is it that you would like to do?” asked Miss Goering, looking weary and indifferent.
    â€œSomething, naturally,” said Arnold, “in the book line, or in the painting line.”
    â€œAnd you can’t?”
    â€œNo,” said Arnold, “my family doesn’t believe that such an occupation is serious, and since I must earn my living and pay for my share of this