But she answered him
crossly and impatiently, and he began to fidget about the room again.
"I've been reading 'Parsifal' again and again, doctor," she wrote. "Do
read it, and tell me what you think of my theory. I see humanity as
Amfortas, the wounded king, who, if he hadn't let himself so wantonly
get wounded, would still have been the keeper of God's Presence on
earth. I see the Spear as humanity's weakness, which, by being turned to
strength, becomes a spear of Deliverance. Ingenious, isn't it? You'll
say 'More dreams, Marcella?' But they're not dreams, doctor, any more.
I'm a man of action now, and I like it."
"I say, old girl," broke in Louis's voice. "It's nearly one o'clock and
I've only three left. I've smoked them faster than usual simply because
I've been worrying so. What the devil am I to do when these are
through?"
"Play ring o' roses on the roof and forget it," she said, with a laugh.
"Ration those--one each hour when the church clock strikes. Then we'll
go to bed and go to sleep and make to-morrow come quicker."
"You know I never sleep if I haven't a smoke," he said impatiently "I
wish it wasn't Sunday. I'd go out and get drunk."
She made tea, which he swallowed in huge gulps. He refused food, but she
ate large, thick slices of bread and jam with relish. The heat of the
day came down like an impalpable curtain, making her tired and gasping.
Pages:
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382