you?â said Edgar. âOr didnât you ask?â His little eyes were anxious and suspicious.
David shrugged. âI donât discourage easily.â
Edgarâs face changed and became nervous and desperate. âListen Wakeley, why donât you go away from here? All you do is upset her. Sheâs miserable enough ⦠If you care anything â¦â
âI know what upsets her. I donât happen to believe in junk like Jonahs and jinxes.â
âSarah does.â
âThen Sarah must learn better.â
âWho are you to say?â Edgar was getting angry. âYou think itâs smart to be stubborn. Did it ever occur to you â¦?â Edgar licked his lip.
âWhat?â
â You might be bad luck for Sarah?â
âWhat do you mean by that?â Davidâs gaze bored into the doctorâs eyes and they evaded.
âIâm trying ⦠Iâm trying to keep things on an even keel in this house,â said Edgar in a high nervous voice. âIâm responsible for Mr. Foxâs health and for Sarahâs and Iâve got to have cooperation. If youâd just realize youâre making a nuisance of yourself. Let me ⦠let me handle this. You donât know what you are doing. Iâm telling you, itâs best for everyone if you go away.â
âIâm sure it would be best for someone,â said David, âbut not necessarily Sarah.â
âYes. Sarah, â said Edgar. âBelieve me.â But his concentration broke. His head lifted. His ears seemed to prick up. He said, âMalvina?â
She was entering the house, stripping gloves off her hands. âMay I see you a minute, Edgar?â she said coaxingly, mysteriously.
David said, âExcuse me,â but Edgar didnât hear it. Malvina seemed to pay no attention either as he went by them, out of the house.
âNow, then,â said Grandfather, âtears, Sarah? Why were you crying?â
âI feel so bad about Davidâs work lost â¦â
âWork? But he canât have done much in one morning.â
âAll his notes, Grandfather. He must have been collecting them for months.â
âIs that so?â said Grandfather. âMonths, really? Well now, surely David doesnât blame you, does he? David is fond of you, I think.â She looked as if sheâd cry. âAnd you are fond of David, Sarah?â
Her head rolled. âI donât dare be fond of anyone.â
âNot fond of me? â he said archly.
âOnly you. I donât bring you bad luck, do I, Grandfather?â
âMy dear little Sarah. I have outgrown bad luck, I think. I am ancient and invulnerable.â Fox glanced at Mrs. Monteeth, who had placed herself in a chair and produced some knitting. She looked patient and immovable and quite detached. âBut we mustnât speak about dreadful things, fire and loss and bad luck,â said Grandfather, âwhen it makes you unhappy. Tell me, Sarah, do you remember England?â
âYes.â
âDo you remember when your mother first brought you to see me? What a little girl you were then, eh?â
âI remember.â Her head turned on the pillow. Her lashes had come down. More than half her thought was on David, still. Grandfatherâs voice went on.
âDo you remember going to the theatre to see my dear old Lupino and me?â
âNot very well,â she said. âI must have been too small.â
âYou didnât go many times.â
âOnly once, I think.â
âWell, you were small. What would my dear old Lupino think, I wonder, if he could see me as I am? Here on this fabulous western edge of the world.â
âIf he hadnât died you wouldnât have come here, Grandfather,â she murmured.
âNo, thatâs true, dearie. True. Do you remember a week end in the country?â
âWill I ever forget it?â Sarah
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