THE TORRENTS OF SPRING 83
ing. Leaning on the counter and talking. Scripps with his eyes fixed on Mandy. Diana made no pretense of listening now. She knew it was over. It was all over now. But she would make one more attempt. One more last gallant try. Perhaps she still could hold him. Perhaps it had all been just a dream. She steadied her voice and then she spoke.
"Scripps, dear," she said. Her voice shook a little. She steadied it.
"What's on your mind?" Scripps asked abruptly. Ah, there it was. That horrid clipped speech again.
"Scripps, dear, wouldn't you like to come home?" Diana's voice quavered. "There's a new Mercury." She had changed from the London Mercury to The American Mercury just to please Scripps. "It just came. I wish you felt like coming home, Scripps, there's a splendid thing in this Mercury. Do come home, Scripps, I've never asked anything of you before. Come home, Scripps! Oh, won't you come home?"
Scripps looked up. Diana's heart beat faster. Perhaps he was coming. Perhaps she was holding him. Holding him. Holding him.
"Do come, Scripps, dear," Diana said softly. "There's a wonderful editorial in it by Mencken about chiropractors."
Scripps looked away.
"Won't you come, Scripps?" Diana pleaded.
"No," Scripps said. "I don't give a damn about Mencken any more."
Diana dropped her head. "Oh, Scripps," she said. "Oh, Scripps." This was the end. She had her answer
