Page:Conflict (1927).pdf/87

 ice-houses on Sabin Pond. Nobody went with her.

It was true. Felix had met her there. He had been waiting for her in the shadow of the ice-house. There had been no actual appointment, but the Saturday before, as they had crept out of the thick border of blackness on the land side of the ice-house, Felix had murmured, 'I'm coming next week, too.'

Sheilah had made no reply, but the thought of him waiting there for her in the dark had drawn her like a magnet all the week. She felt as helpless as a tiny steel needle now.

They had gone inside one of the empty ice-houses to-night, through a narrow slit where one of the old boards had been ripped off. How big it had seemed inside! And how terrifying! At first, more terrifying than Felix, so that she forgot him for a moment. But only for a moment. One could reason with the fear of the dark. But one couldn't with the fear of Felix. How thick the dark had seemed inside the ice-house! And heavy and stifling. How thick Felix had seemed, and heavy, and stifling, standing so close to her, but not touching her! Not at first.

'Sheilah, your soup, dear.'

She gave a little start.

'I can't, mother.'

'But it isn't right to leave good food like that.