Main Street, Sinclair Lewis [red white and royal blue hardcover txt] 📗
- Author: Sinclair Lewis
Book online «Main Street, Sinclair Lewis [red white and royal blue hardcover txt] 📗». Author Sinclair Lewis
He came to the flat for breakfast, and washed the dishes. That was her only occasion for spite. Back home he never thought of washing dishes!
She took him to the obvious sights—the Treasury, the Monument, the Corcoran Gallery, the Pan-American Building, the Lincoln Memorial, with the Potomac beyond it and the Arlington hills and the columns of the Lee Mansion. For all his willingness to play there was over him a melancholy which piqued her. His normally expressionless eyes had depths to them now, and strangeness. As they walked through Lafayette Square, looking past the Jackson statue at the lovely tranquil façade of the White House, he sighed, “I wish I’d had a shot at places like this. When I was in the U., I had to earn part of my way, and when I wasn’t doing that or studying, I guess I was roughhousing. My gang were a great bunch for bumming around and raising Cain. Maybe if I’d been caught early and sent to concerts and all that—Would I have been what you call intelligent?”
“Oh, my dear, don’t be humble! You are intelligent! For instance, you’re the most thorough doctor—”
He was edging about something he wished to say. He pounced on it:
“You did like those pictures of G.P. pretty well, after all, didn’t you!”
“Yes, of course.”
“Wouldn’t be so bad to have a glimpse of the old town, would it!”
“No, it wouldn’t. Just as I was terribly glad to see the Haydocks. But please understand me! That doesn’t mean that I withdraw all my criticisms. The fact that I might like a glimpse of old friends hasn’t any particular relation to the question of whether Gopher Prairie oughtn’t to have festivals and lamb chops.”
Hastily, “No, no! Sure not. I und’stand.”
“But I know it must have been pretty tiresome to have to live with anybody as perfect as I was.”
He grinned. She liked his grin.
VHe was thrilled by old negro coachmen, admirals, aeroplanes, the building to which his income tax would eventually go, a Rolls-Royce, Lynnhaven oysters, the Supreme Court Room, a New York theatrical manager down for the tryout of a play, the house where Lincoln died, the cloaks of Italian officers, the barrows at which clerks buy their box-lunches at noon, the barges on the Chesapeake Canal, and the fact that District of Columbia cars had both District and Maryland licenses.
She resolutely took him to her favorite white and green cottages and Georgian houses. He admitted that fanlights, and white shutters against rosy brick, were more homelike than a painty wooden box. He volunteered, “I see how you mean. They make me think of these pictures of an old-fashioned Christmas. Oh, if you keep at it long enough you’ll have Sam and me reading poetry and everything. Oh say, d’ I tell you about this fierce green Jack Elder’s had his machine painted?”
VIThey were at dinner.
He hinted, “Before you showed me those places today, I’d already made up my mind that when I built the new house we used to talk about, I’d fix it the way you wanted it. I’m pretty practical about foundations and radiation and stuff like that, but I guess I don’t know a whole lot about architecture.”
“My dear, it occurs to me with a sudden shock that I don’t either!”
“Well—anyway—you let me plan the garage and the plumbing, and you do the rest, if you ever—I mean—if you ever want to.”
Doubtfully, “That’s sweet of you.”
“Look here, Carrie; you think I’m going to ask you to love me. I’m not. And I’m not going to ask you to come back to Gopher Prairie!”
She gaped.
“It’s been a whale of a fight. But I guess I’ve got myself to see that you won’t ever stand G.P. unless you want to come back to it. I needn’t say I’m crazy to have you. But I won’t ask you. I just want you to know how I wait for you. Every mail I look for a letter, and when I get one I’m kind of scared to open it, I’m hoping so much that you’re coming back. Evenings—You know I didn’t open the cottage down at the lake at all, this past summer. Simply couldn’t stand all the others laughing and swimming, and you not there. I used to sit on the porch, in town, and I—I couldn’t get over the feeling that you’d simply run up to the drug store and would be right back, and till after it got dark I’d catch myself watching, looking up the street, and you never came, and the house was so empty and still that I didn’t like to go in. And sometimes I fell asleep there, in my chair, and didn’t wake up till after midnight, and the house—Oh, the devil! Please get me, Carrie. I just want you to know how welcome you’ll be if you ever do come. But I’m not asking you to.”
“You’re—It’s awfully—”
“ ’Nother thing. I’m going to be frank. I haven’t always been absolutely, uh, absolutely, proper. I’ve always loved you more than anything else in the world, you and the kid. But sometimes when you were chilly to me I’d get lonely and sore, and pike out and—Never intended—”
She rescued him with a pitying, “It’s all right. Let’s forget it.”
“But before we were married you said if your husband ever did anything wrong, you’d want him to tell you.”
“Did I? I can’t remember. And I can’t seem to think. Oh, my dear, I do know how generously you’re trying to make me happy. The only thing is—I can’t think. I don’t know what I think.”
“Then listen! Don’t think! Here’s what I want you to do! Get a two-weeks leave from your office. Weather’s beginning to get chilly here. Let’s run down to Charleston and Savannah and maybe Florida.
“A second honeymoon?” indecisively.
“No. Don’t even call it that. Call it a second wooing.
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