| OCR Text |
Show page 128 mare's coat. She was wearing a light tan jacket. F a r r e l l turned quickly, catching the unguarded admiration on Storey's face. "One witness to keep you out of prison," he said. "First time you've seen her?" "Yes." "I don't want to pry, Storey - you never did with me - but I know t h a t you and Anne were sweethearts through high school and even a f t e r she came home from Normal. Right?" Storey nodded, feeling the words as the high cap of a dream, a thing so long ago that i t was misty. "Then Forrest Clinton takes her to a dance while you are in Albany with a load of beeves. And they don't get home u n t il three in the morning. Later she t e l l s you that she's going to marry Forrest. Oh, don't frown, Storey, we're at a time of reason, not emotion, not silent remembrances. We got to dig things out and let the light of day get to them." "All r i g h t , reason i t out, Flam," Storey said, his palms sweating because of the things he didn't xvant to hear, the things he d i d n ' t want the light of day to f a l l upon. It was the past, his past, Anne's past mostly. "Forget the dance and the coming home at three in the morning," F a r r e l l persisted. "We c a n ' t reason t h a t . But I want to hear if you had malice toward Forrest. Solicitor Burrows will t r y to say you did." " I t hurt, Flam, can't deny t h a t . It hurt right up to the night, three weeks after she told me. Even that night, when Forrest was laughing and trying to get the jug to his mouth. |
