'I'm busy with
Willie.'
'Come as soon as you are free.'
In ten minutes she appeared. There was apprehension on her face;
she feared he was going to lament his inability to work. Instead
of that, he told her joyfully that the first volume was finished.
'Thank goodness!' she exclaimed. 'Are you going to do any more
to-night?'
'I think not--if you will come and sit with me.'
'Willie doesn't seem very well. He can't get to sleep.'
'You would like to stay with him?'
'A little while. I'll come presently.'
She closed the door. Reardon brought a high-backed chair to the
fireside, and allowed himself to forget the two volumes that had
still to be struggled through, in a grateful sense of the portion
that was achieved. In a few minutes it occurred to him that it
would be delightful to read a scrap of the 'Odyssey'; he went to
the shelves on which were his classical books, took the desired
volume, and opened it where Odysseus speaks to Nausicaa:
'For never yet did I behold one of mortals like to thee, neither
man nor woman; I am awed as I look upon thee.
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