But that trust could never
be bothered with the truth of what it was saying at the moment--it would
have to reach into something deeper than any transitory feeling--and they
have an unlucky tradition of always trying to tell each other what is
exactly true. And so Nancy nods because she has to, though she couldn't
bear to put what that means into words.
"Well, you take it. And I'm awful sorry we couldn't make it go, dear. I
tried as hard as I could to make it go but I guess I didn't have the stuff,
He has risen now and his face seems curiously twisted--twisted as if
something hot and hurtful had passed over it and left it so that it would
always look that way. He can hardly bear to look at Nancy, but she has
risen and started talking hurriedly--fright, amazement, concern and a queer
little touch of relief all mixing in her voice.
"But Ollie, if you can't _trust_ me about something as little as that."
"It isn't that," he says beatenly and she knows it isn't. And knowing,
her voice becomes suddenly frightened--the fright of a child who has let
something as fragile and precious as a vessel of golden glass slip out of