Without even waiting for an answer from her husband regarding his

opinion or wishes in the matter, Edna hastened her preparations for

quitting her home on Esplanade Street and moving into the little house

around the block. A feverish anxiety attended her every action in that

direction. There was no moment of deliberation, no interval of repose

between the thought and its fulfillment. Early upon the morning

following those hours passed in Arobin's society, Edna set about

securing her new abode and hurrying her arrangements for occupying it.

Within the precincts of her home she felt like one who has entered and

lingered within the portals of some forbidden temple in which a thousand

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muffled voices bade her begone.

Whatever was her own in the house, everything which she had acquired

aside from her husband's bounty, she caused to be transported to the

other house, supplying simple and meager deficiencies from her own

resources.

Arobin found her with rolled sleeves, working in company with the

house-maid when he looked in during the afternoon. She was splendid and

robust, and had never appeared handsomer than in the old blue gown, with

a red silk handkerchief knotted at random around her head to protect her

hair from the dust. She was mounted upon a high stepladder, unhooking a

picture from the wall when he entered. He had found the front door open,

and had followed his ring by walking in unceremoniously.

"Come down!" he said. "Do you want to kill yourself?" She greeted him

with affected carelessness, and appeared absorbed in her occupation.

If he had expected to find her languishing, reproachful, or indulging in

sentimental tears, he must have been greatly surprised.

He was no doubt prepared for any emergency, ready for any one of the

foregoing attitudes, just as he bent himself easily and naturally to the

situation which confronted him.

"Please come down," he insisted, holding the ladder and looking up at

her.

"No," she answered; "Ellen is afraid to mount the ladder. Joe is working

over at the 'pigeon house'--that's the name Ellen gives it, because it's

so small and looks like a pigeon house--and someone has to do this."

Arobin pulled off his coat, and expressed himself ready and willing to

tempt fate in her place. Ellen brought him one of her dust-caps,

and went into contortions of mirth, which she found it impossible to

control, when she saw him put it on before the mirror as grotesquely as

he could. Edna herself could not refrain from smiling when she fastened

it at his request. So it was he who in turn mounted the ladder,

unhooking pictures and curtains, and dislodging ornaments as Edna

directed. When he had finished he took off his dust-cap and went out to

wash his hands.




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