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Show Moon -14 me that were entirely wrong. Anne stood there wordlessly, not wanting to hurt his feelings. "Wait for me," he said-that terrible command-and he put on his cap and walked off into the night. Anne's father was better. Sometimes he got up for meals, even sipped a little soup. He carried a book constantly, even to meals, holding it tightly as if afraid someone might take it away. His face had become small and drawn into itself, with deep furrows around his mouth. Ruth accepted the recovery as natural and began to speak of his returning to work. He only shook his head and moved off into the livingroom to read. It wasn't as if they needed the money, His company had made money during the depression, and he was past retirement age anyway. It was strange having him downstairs and home all the time. He moved around the house like a slow shadow, rarely speaking, asking for nothing, lifting up his feet for the carpet sweeper, carving the meat at dinner. When he sat reading in his old easy chair, he sometimes sighed deeply, and one evening when he did this Anne looked up from the sketch she was making of him, in which the lamp light carved his features into their old certain planes. With crosshatching, she solidified his wavering jaw, as if soon he would speak with all his held-in power. It was a miracle what mere charcoal could do, this restoration of a man to his former self. She wanted, suddenly, to rush to him, to gather him in her arms and tell him he was loved. No one did things like that in their home. It was beyond her experience. The impulse embarrassed her and she set aside her pad and went out to the veranda to stare at the summer stars. |