"Can you beat it?" he said helplessly, "these darn kids--!" But
he held the child close.
At the next corner he turned toward home. Edith stopped and watched
his valiant young back, his small train of followers. He was going
to be very sad when he knew, poor Joe, with his vicarious fatherhood,
his cluttered, noisy, anxious life.
Life was queer. Queer and cruel.
From the doctor's office, the waiting room lined with patient figures,
she went on. She had a very definite plan in mind, but it took all
her courage to carry it through. Outside the Benedict Apartments she
hesitated, but she went in finally, upheld by sheer determination.
The chair at the telephone desk was empty, but Sam remembered her.
"He's out, miss," he said. "He's out most all the time now, with
the election coming on."
"What time does he usually get in?"
"Sometimes early, sometimes late," said Sam, watching her.
Everything pertaining to Louis Akers was of supreme interest those
days to the Benedict employees. The beating he had received, the
coming election, the mysterious young woman who had come but once,
and the black days that had followed his return from the St.
Pages:
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481