terest and energy; he had finished the long grind of duty and he required contrast to it; he wanted to play. And Alice thought of Fidelia and she tried to be "light."
She went to the theater with him and got up supper parties. She had him take her out to dine and dance. She tried to be very gay but it felt false to herself. She did not really want to be light with him; she preferred being serious and discussing and forming plans and talking over his work with him.
"And he doesn't need that now. He does it only to please me," she realized. "But it would be all right, if I had a baby."
There was no baby; there were only he and she and they were very much as they had been when Fidelia had come.
David did not need serious discussions; he wanted play; but he blamed himself, not Alice, for the dissatisfaction he felt. He wanted a child and he held himself guilty for his childlessness.
He recognized that there was no rational basis for blaming himself; but his father accused him. His father pronounced that God very likely was punishing him for his manner of life with Fidelia; since Fidelia and he had forbidden the children which God would have given, God was denying the child which David desired now.
The idea angered David for its outrageous injustice to Alice; yet he could not help wondering if it might be so. It made him even more gentle when Alice cried.
"You're so good to me, David," she whispered.
