Twilight Sleep
her husband. Almost every day Nona saw one of Jim's gray-blue envelopes on the hall table. That particular colour had come to symbolize to her a state of patient expectancy.
Lita was turning over some impersonal looking bills and advertisements. From beneath them the faithful gray-blue envelope emerged. Nona thought: "If only he wouldn't—!" and her eyes filled.
Lita looked pensively at the post-mark and then laid the envelope down unopened.
"Aren't you going to read your letter?"
She raised her brows. "Jim's? I did—yesterday. One just like it."
"Lita! You're—you're perfectly beastly!"
Lita's languid mouth rounded into a smile. "Not to you, darling. Do you want me to read it?" She slipped a polished finger-tip under the flap.
"Oh, no; no! Don't—not like that!" It made Nona wince. "I wish she hated Jim—I wish she wanted to kill him! I could bear it better than this," the girl stormed inwardly. She got up and turned toward the door.
"Nona—wait! What's the matter? Don't you really want to hear what he says?" Lita stood up also, her eyes still on the open letter. "He—oh. . ." She turned toward her sister-in-law a face from which the inner glow had vanished.
"What is it? Is he ill? What's wrong?"
"He's coming home. He wants me to go back
