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Moths in the Arc Light
by
“Would I be silly if I asked for the same table we had before? We— oh, it’s good luck. ”
“Of course we’ll have it. ”
“That’s why I suggested dining early, so it wouldn’t be taken. I have something rather serious to ask your advice about. ”
“Serious?”
“Oh, not—not tragic. But it puzzles me. ”
He was anxious as he followed her. Their table was untaken. He fussily took her coat, held her chair.
Her eyes became shrewdly clear again while he ordered dinner, and she said: “Will you please examine the crest on one of the forks?”
“Why?”
“Because you did last time. You were adorably absurd, and very nice, trying not to alarm the strange girl. ”
He had obediently picked up a fork, but he flung it down and commanded: “Look here, what is this that puzzles you?”
Her hand drooping over the balcony rail by their table was visibly trembling. She murmured: “I have discovered that I am a woman. ”
“I don’t quite—”
“I’ve tried to keep from telling you, but I can’t. I do—I do miss our good-nights and our lunches. I have done quite well at the Technical Syndicate, but I don’t seem to care. I thought I had killed all sentimentality in me. I haven’t. I’m sloppy-minded. No! I’m not! I don’t care! I’m glad. ” A flush on her cheek like the rosy shadow of a wine glass on linen, she flung out: “I find I cared more for our silly games than I do for success. There’s no one across the way now to smile at me. There’s just a blank brick wall, with a horrible big garage sign, and I look at it before I go home nights. Oh, I’m a failure. I can’t go on—fighting—alone— always alone!”
He had caught both her hands. He was unconscious of waiters and other guests. But she freed herself.
“No! Please! Just let me babble. I don’t know whether I’m glad or sorry to find I haven’t any brains. None! No courage! But all I want—Will you dine with me once a month or so? Let me go Dutch—”
“Oh, my dear!”
“—and sometimes take me to the theater? Then I won’t feel solitary. I can go on working, and make good, and perhaps get over—Please! Don’t think I’m a Bern
ard Shaw superwoman pursuing a man. It’s just that—You were the first person to make me welcome in New York. Will you forgive—”
“Emily, please don’t be humble! I’d rather have you make me beg, as you used to. ” He stopped, gasped and added quietly: “Emily, will you marry me?”
“No. ”
“But you said—”
“I know. I miss you. But you’re merely sorry for me. Honestly I’m not a clinger. I can stand alone—almost alone. It’s sweet of you, and generous, but I didn’t ask that. Just play with me sometimes. ”
“But I mean it. Dreadfully. I’ve thought of you every hour. Will you marry me? Now!”
“No. ”
“Some time?”
“How can I tell? A month ago I would have cut a girl who was so sloppy-minded that she would beg a man for friendship. I didn’t know! I didn’t know anything! But—No! No!”
“See here, Emily. Are you free? Can I depend on you? Are you still interested in young Simmons?”
“He calls on me. ”
“Often?”
“Yes. ”
“You refused?”
“Yes. That was when I discovered I was a woman. But not—not his woman!”
“Mine, then! Mine! Think, dear—it’s incredible, but the city didn’t quite get us. We’re still a man and a woman! What day is this? Oh, Wednesday. Listen. Thursday you go to the theater with me. ”
“Yes. ”
“Friday you find an excuse and have to see someone at the Floral Heights Company, and you wave to me from across the street, so that my office will be blessed again; and we meet afterward and go to supper with my friends the Parrishes. ”