There was the same
cupboard that had been our mountain; here the same chairs that formed
our ridges and our valleys. At the table by my side, by the light of
this very lamp, we sat together not so very long ago, boys, spelling
out with our father, letter by letter, word by word, the stories of the
Bible. Here we had lived our little lives; here we were to live what
was to come; and where life is as simple as it is with us we grow a bit
like the animals about us. We sit together and smoke; we purr, as it
were, and know each other's mind. Tim and I purred. Incident by
incident, year by year, we travelled down the course of our lives
again, over the rough ways, over the smooth ways, smoking and smoking,
until at last we brought up together at the present. Not a word had
either of us spoken, but at last when our reminiscent wanderings were
over and we paused on the threshold of the future, Tim spoke.
"Attractive?" he said in a tone of inquiry.
He was looking at me with eyebrows arched, curiously, and there was a
faint suggestion of hostility in the set of his mouth.
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