The Delicious Breath Of Rain Was In

…there Would Be No Powerful Will Binding Hers In That Blind Persistence With Which Men And Women Believe They Have A Right To Impose A Private Will Upon A Fellow Creature…and Yet She Had Loved Him- Sometimes. Often She Had Not. What Did It Matter! What Could Love, The Unsolved Mystery, Count For In The Face Of This Possession Of Self-assertion Which She Suddenly Recognized As The Strongest Impulse Of Her Being.

Does He Write To You? Never A Line. Does He Send You A Message? Never A Word. It Is Because He Loves You, Poor Fool, And Is Trying To Forget You, Since You Are Not Free To Listen To Him Or To Belong To Him.

She Looked Into The Distance, And The Old Terror Flamed Up For An Instant, Then Sank Again. Edna Heard Her Father's Voice And Her Sister Margaret's. She Heard The Barking Of An Old Dog That Was Chained To The Sycamore Tree. The Spurs Of The Cavalry Officer Clanged As He Walked Across The Porch. There Was The Hum Of Bees, And The Musky Odor Of Pinks Filled The Air. (last Lines)

The City Atmosphere Certainly Has Improved Her. Some Way She Doesn't Seem Like The Same Woman.

The Bird That Would Soar Above The Level Plain Of Tradition And Prejudice Must Have Strong Wings. It Is A Sad Spectacle To See The Weaklings Bruised, Exhausted, Fluttering Back To Earth.