He pushed her small hand into his jeans. For a short time they allowed me to share the warmth of their lives. And grasping the thick iron rod, she pushed with all her force against it, while Jack seconded her efforts from within. “I’ve gotta go. But you shall swing, rascal,—you shall swing. Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it. He temporized, and the girl raised her eyes once more to his. I waited until he was asleep and then I tied him up with some duct tape and some old rope he had in the shed. “Why?” “I still love you. He heard me; but he never came in to ask what was the matter. What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. He waved to her. I am too weak to aid you. A silence ensued. We can get absorbed in play, in games, in the business we do.
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