back at the Crossing, and I
played golf all the morning, and bridge this afternoon, and all the
women smoked and all the men, and I was in a blue haze, and I wanted to
be back in the quiet church where the boys sang, and the lights were
like stars----

"I wish you and I could go there some day and that you could feel as I
do about it. But you wouldn't. You are always so sure and smug--and
you have a feeling that money will buy anything--even Paradise. I
wonder what you will be like on the next plane. You won't fit into my
farmhouse. I fancy that you'll be something rather--devilish--like Don
Juan--or perhaps you'll be just an 'ostler in a courtyard, shining
boots and--kissing maids----

"Of course I don't quite mean that. But I do feel that you'd be rather
worth while if you'd stop philandering and discover your soul.

"I am a bit homesick, and I haven't any home. If Dad hadn't married a
second time, I believe he would still love me a bit. But his wife
doesn't. And so here I am--and as restless as ever--seeking
something--always seeking.

"And now, once more, don't break the heart of the new little girl. I
don't need to warn you not to break your own. You are the greatest
example of the truth of 'he who loves and runs away will live to love
another day.' Oh, Georgie-Porgie, will you ever love any woman enough
to rise with her to the heights?

"Perhaps there aren't any heights for you or me. But I should like to
think there were. Different hilltops, of course, so that we could wave
across. We shall never climb together, Georgie. Perhaps we are too
much alike to help each other up the hills. We need stronger props.

"Tell me about Flora. Is she really ill? If she is, I'll come. But
I'd rather not.

"I hope you won't read this aloud to Oscar. You might, you know, and
it wouldn't do. He would hate to believe that he'd be happier buying
things at a delicatessen, and he wouldn't believe it. But it's true,
just as it is true that you would be happy shining boots and making
love to the maids like a character in Dickens.

"Come on up, and we'll motor to Boston on Sunday afternoon and we'll go
to Trinity; I want somebody to be good with me, Georgie, and there are
so many of the other kind.

"Ever wistfully,

"MADGE."

George knew that he ought to go, but he was not ready yet to run away.
He was having the time of his life, and as for Becky, he would teach
her how to play the game.

IV