“Oh, Charlie.” Her shoulders trembled. “You make it sound so terrible.”
“It is terrible, darling. But it hasn’t happened yet.” He felt the first twinge of hope. He was right; she was frightened. The premise he had gambled on was true. She loved him, not Laura; it remained only to convince her of this herself.
“It would hurt her so awfully if I—if I—”
“Not like it will a few months from now. Or a year. Then it could hurt so much that she’d never recover. Beth, my love….” He put his arms around her. “Running away now won’t help Emmy either. It won’t undo the wrong. It won’t make Laura happy. And think what it’s going to do to you. Face it, honey, look ahead. Think, not just of Laura or Emmy or me, but of yourself. What will this do to your life? Beth,” he said, turning her around and lifting her chin.
She looked at him through welling tears.
“You don’t need to be loved right now, my darling,” he said, and she frowned in wonderment. “You are, but that’s not the point. You don’t need to be loved one half so much as you need to love, Beth. And you need to love a man…and you do.”
They stared at each other for a long time while her tears slowed and stopped and his face came into focus and his strength held her fast and warmed and thrilled her.
“Charlie?” she said.
He kissed her wet cheeks and her lips for a long lovely while, cradling her body against his own, letting her forget a little, find her courage and will again, pressed hard against the clean friendly power of himself. And then he pushed her firmly away.
“Your train leaves in half an hour,” he said. “I’ll drop you off at the station.”
He picked up her bag and led her out of the room. She followed him in confusion, her mind in an alarming uproar, her heart in knots. They left the Union and walked half a block to his car without saying anything. She got in and settled herself, trying at the same time to settle her frantic nerves.
They drove to the station. He stopped at the corner, some distance from the entrance, in case Laura should be there waiting. Beth hesitated, her hand on the door handle. Charlie watched her.
“It’s your decision, Beth,” he said.
She closed her eyes and clamped her teeth together, and pushed the handle down. The door gave a little, and still she waited, agonized.
“It’s five o’clock. Better get going,” he said. “Train leaves at five-fifteen.”
“Charlie—” She turned her tortured face to him. “Charlie—”
“I’m going over to Walgreen’s and get a cup of coffee,” he said. “I’ll be there until five-thirty.”
Slowly she got out of the car, pulling her bag after her. She gave him a long supplicating look and then shut the car door and watched him drive off. He didn’t look back. She turned and walked up the steps and along the station to the entrance and went in. Laura saw her instantly.
“Oh, Beth!” she said thankfully. “For a minute I—I—oh, never mind. You’re here. Thank God, you’re here.”
Beth tried to smile at her. “Laura, I—” she began.
“I got your ticket, darling. It got so late, I—What happened, Beth? Why are you so late?”
“I—I got held up at the Union.” Could she never tell the truth?
“Oh,” Laura laughed. “I nearly had heart failure. It got later and later and—Well, anyway, you’re here. We’d better go on up if we want seats. The train’s loading.” She gave a little tug at Beth’s sleeve.
“Laura—wait—Wait. I—” She stopped, unable to talk, hardly able to face Laura.
With a forced, frightened calm, Laura took Beth’s bag from her and led her to a wooden bench near the ticket windows. She made her sit down and then she took her hands and said, with inexplicable dread, “What is it, Beth?” Far away inside her it was turning cold.
“Laura—” Beth’s cheeks were hot with a needling shame and uncertainty.
“Beth, you’ve been crying. What’s the matter?”
“Oh, Laura….” Beth couldn’t find her tongue. Her voice was rough with sorrow.
“Don’t you want to go, darling?” Laura sounded unbelievably sad and soft and sweet.
“Laura, couldn’t we—couldn’t we wait till June? I—”
Laura shook her head gravely. “No, we can’t wait, Beth. We have to go now, or we’ll never go. You know that.”
She did know it, but she couldn’t come right out and admit it. “No, Laur, we could do it later. Couldn’t we?” For the first time she was asking Laura instead of telling her.
Laura shook her head and murmured, “No, Beth, tell me the truth. We haven’t much time. What’s the matter?”
“Laura—darling—I just can’t do it. I just can’t. Oh, Laura—hate me. Hate me!” And she put her head down against the bench and wept, unable to look at Laura, pulling her hand free to cover her face.
Laura held the other one hard. When Beth was quieter she raised her eyes and saw Laura’s face, white and heartbreakingly gentle, and there was a curious new strength in it, and a most awesome dignity that Beth, in her distress, lacked completely.
“Laura, stay with me,” she said a little wildly. “Stay here. We’ll go back to the house. It’s only another month or so. Please—”
“No,” said Laura. “I have to go.” She was cold all over now, but the frost brought clarity as well as suffering. She began to understand. She heard Beth start to implore her and she stopped her.
“Beth, I have only a few minutes. Listen to me. Tell me one thing—only one. Do you love Charlie? Is that what’s the matter?” Beth started to shake her head, but Laura said, “Don’t try to protect me any more, Beth. I want to know the whole truth. Do you love him?”
Beth was surprised and touched by her self-command, and she gazed at her a moment before answering, “Yes.”
“Then I’ll go. And you’ll stay.”
“No—”
“Listen to me!” Beth was
