Young Husband. Blanche Devine spied them from her sitting-room
window, and she made the excuse of looking in her mailbox in
order to go to the door. She stood in the doorway and the Very
Young Wife went by on the arm of her husband. She went
by--rather white-faced--without a look or a word or a sign!

And then this happened! There came into Blanche Devine's face a
look that made slits of her eyes, and drew her mouth down into an
ugly, narrow line, and that made the muscles of her jaw tense and
hard. It was the ugliest look you can imagine. Then she
smiled--if having one's lips curl away from one's teeth can be
called smiling.

Two days later there was great news of the white cottage on the
corner. The curtains were down; the furniture was packed; the
rugs were rolled. The wagons came and backed up to the house and
took those things that had made a home for Blanche Devine. And
when we heard that she had bought back her interest in the House
with the Closed Shutters, near the freight depot, we sniffed.

"I knew she wouldn't last!" we said.

"They never do!" said we.



The Gay Old Dog
[1917]