will scream some day, and I won't be able to stop, and you'll have to put me in an asylum, unless I get away."
"It's too lonely for you out here. Let's try it in town."
"No! No!"
"But where do you want to go?"
"Mrs. Prather wants me to go to Paris with her, and then to the Lido. I long to go! The people I'm used to, the ways I understand—I ought never to have left them. I hate this place!"
"Perhaps we can go somewhere else, Evelyn."
"No, Joe, no. Don't you understand?"
"Understand? . . . You mean you're tired of me, too?"
She nodded, gasping for breath. She held his hand tight against her wet cheek.
"Do you want to leave me?"
"Joe, you're so good to me—why do I want to go?"
"You're tired, darling. I've let you work too hard. I'll send you away for a while, and then perhaps?"
"No, no, no! I want to go for good. Oh, Joe, this isn't a new idea! I tried to get over it because of Hope, but you don't know how unhappy I've been! I want to go! I've got to go!"
The life she longed for, where each step of the day was effortless delight. Held up by soft pillows to drink fragrant coffee from thin porcelain, lying deep
