Page:Strange Interlude (1928).djvu/84

78 Now wouldn’t that be more logical and satisfying than having God a male whose chest thunders with egotism and is too hard for tired heads and thoroughly comfortless? Wouldn’t it, Charlie?

[With a strange passionate eagerness]

Yes! It would, indeed! It would, Nina!

[Suddenly jumping to her feet and going to him—with a horrible moaning desolation]

Oh, God, Charlie, I want to believe in something! I want to believe so I can feel! I want to feel that he is dead—my father! And I can’t feel anything, Charlie! I can’t feel anything at all!

[She throws herself on her knees beside him and hides her face in her hands on his knees and begins to sob—stifled torn sounds]

[Bends down, pats her head with trembling hands, soothes her with uncertain trembling words]

There—there—don’t—Nina, please—don’t cry—you’ll make yourself sick—come now—get up—do!

[''His hands grasping her arms he half raises her to her feet, but, her face still hidden in her hands, sobbing, she slips on to his lap like a little girl and hides her face on his shoulder. His expression becomes transported with a great happiness'']

[In an ecstatic whisper]

As I dreamed with a deeper sweetness!

[He kisses her hair with a great reverence]