II
He thought of Tanis always. With a stir he remembered
her every aspect. His arms yearned for her. "I've found
her! I've dreamed of her all these years and now I've found
her!'' he exulted. He met her at the movies in the morning;
he drove out to her flat in the late afternoon or on evenings
when he was believed to be at the Elks. He knew her financial
affairs and advised her about them, while she lamented
her feminine ignorance, and praised his masterfulness, and
proved to know much more about bonds than he did. They
had remembrances, and laughter over old times. Once they
quarreled, and he raged that she was as "bossy'' as his wife
and far more whining when he was inattentive. But that
passed safely.
Their high hour was a tramp on a ringing December afternoon,
through snow-drifted meadows down to the icy Chaloosa
River. She was exotic in an astrachan cap and a short beaver
coat; she slid on the ice and shouted, and he panted after
her, rotund with laughter.... Myra Babbitt never slid on
the ice.
He was afraid that they would be seen together. In Zenith
it is impossible to lunch with a neighbor's wife without the
fact being known, before nightfall, in every house in your
circle. But Tanis was beautifully discreet. However appealingly
she might turn to him when they were alone, she was
gravely detached when they were abroad, and he hoped that
she would be taken for a client. Orville Jones once saw them
emerging from a movie theater, and Babbitt bumbled, "Let
me make you 'quainted with Mrs. Judique. Now here's a lady
who knows the right broker to come to, Orvy!'' Mr. Jones,
though he was a man censorious of morals and of laundry
machinery, seemed satisfied.
His predominant fear—not from any especial fondness for
her but from the habit of propriety—was that his wife would
learn of the affair. He was certain that she knew nothing
specific about Tanis, but he was also certain that she suspected
something indefinite. For years she had been bored by anything
more affectionate than a farewell kiss, yet she was hurt
by any slackening in his irritable periodic interest, and now
he had no interest; rather, a revulsion. He was completely
faithful—to Tanis. He was distressed by the sight of his
wife's slack plumpness, by her puffs and billows of flesh, by the
tattered petticoat which she was always meaning and always
forgetting to throw away. But he was aware that she, so long
attuned to him, caught all his repulsions. He elaborately,
heavily, jocularly tried to check them. He couldn't.
They had a tolerable Christmas. Kenneth Escott was there,
admittedly engaged to Verona. Mrs. Babbitt was tearful
and called Kenneth her new son. Babbitt was worried about
Ted, because he had ceased complaining of the State University
and become suspiciously acquiescent. He wondered what
the boy was planning, and was too shy to ask. Himself,
Babbitt slipped away on Christmas afternoon to take his
present, a silver cigarette-box, to Tanis. When he returned
Mrs. Babbitt asked, much too innocently, "Did you go out
for a little fresh air?''
"Yes, just lil drive,'' he mumbled.
After New Year's his wife proposed, "I heard from my sister
to-day, George. She isn't well. I think perhaps I ought to
go stay with her for a few weeks.''
Now, Mrs. Babbitt was not accustomed to leave home during
the winter except on violently demanding occasions, and only
the summer before, she had been gone for weeks. Nor was
Babbitt one of the detachable husbands who take separations
casually He liked to have her there; she looked after his
clothes; she knew how his steak ought to be cooked; and her
clucking made him feel secure. But he could not drum up
even a dutiful "Oh, she doesn't really need you, does she?''
While he tried to look regretful, while he felt that his wife
was watching him, he was filled with exultant visions of
Tanis.
"Do you think I'd better go?'' she said sharply.
"You've got to decide, honey; I can't.''
She turned away, sighing, and his forehead was damp.
Till she went, four days later, she was curiously still, he
cumbrously affectionate. Her train left at noon. As he saw
it grow small beyond the train-shed he longed to hurry to
Tanis.
"No, by golly, I won't do that!'' he vowed. "I won't go
near her for a week!''
But he was at her flat at four.