. The Ladies' home journal. ever you, darling. I love you. You know Ilove you. Id die for you. And the picture of Phil leaning above picture of Phils lean, dark, good-lookingface that was tender with her at last, reallytender; that began to tell her all the differentways a man feels about his wife, and about agirl who is not his wife, even when shes oneand the same girl: Once, Phil had said gently, worship-fully, you almost did. Ill never forget never let anything wrong ever happen toyou again. Its different, now. You knowthat, dont you? And it was, and she told him so, andyet .
. The Ladies' home journal. ever you, darling. I love you. You know Ilove you. Id die for you. And the picture of Phil leaning above picture of Phils lean, dark, good-lookingface that was tender with her at last, reallytender; that began to tell her all the differentways a man feels about his wife, and about agirl who is not his wife, even when shes oneand the same girl: Once, Phil had said gently, worship-fully, you almost did. Ill never forget never let anything wrong ever happen toyou again. Its different, now. You knowthat, dont you? And it was, and she told him so, andyet ... it wasnt. It was not so different asit might have been, and as it should havebeen. Something—some vague, nameless,formless something—was wrong about theday that appeared to be so perfect. Itpursued her, it haunted her like the songthey were playing still, it had dogged herfootsteps all the way to Bronxville, and itdogged them now. If she could find it, if shecould put a finger on it, she would have the February, 19 I.
Size: 1519px × 1644px
Photo credit: © Reading Room 2020 / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, bookidladieshomejourna65janwyet
