"
She told him that his picture was on her mantel, but she did not say
that a corner of her room had been blown away or that the mantel was
but a plank from a destroyed house. And she sent a great deal of love,
but she did not say that she no longer wore his ring on her finger.
And, of course, she was coming back to him if he still wanted her.
More than Henri's absence was troubling Sara Lee those days. Indeed she
herself laid all her anxiety to one thing, a serious one at that. With
all the marvels of Henri's buying, and Jean's, her money was not holding
out. The scope of the little house had grown with its fame. Now and
then there were unexpected calls, too--Marie's mother, starving in
Havre; sickness and death in the little town at the crossroads: a dozen
small emergencies, but adding to the demands on her slender income. She
had, as a matter of fact, already begun to draw on her private capital.
And during the days when no gray car appeared she faced the situation,
took stock, as it were, and grew heavy-eyed and wistful.
On the fifth day the gray car came again, but Jean drove it alone. He
disclaimed any need for sympathy over his wound, and with Rene's aid
carried in the supplies.
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