PARTISAN REVIEW
She heard him come running after her but she was not afraid,
for the library was brightly lighted. She stopped when he was abreast
of her and stamped her foot.
"Go
away, Mr. Benson," she said.
His
head fell forward dejectedly and his beaver-lined coat which
was not buttoned hung loosely on him as if he had suddenly shriveled.
He was a die-hard. "Oh, Rose," he said, "I assure you I mean no
harm." He touched the yellow ascot with the palm of his hand and
said, "The most unsightly wen you ever saw. All I am asking
is
a
little pity." He began to undo the scarf as she mounted the steps.
When she was within the storm doors, she looked back and saw
him
standing there in the snow with
his
neck bare and his arms spread
out, his palms upward in supplication. He had flung
his
head back
and his derby had fallen to the ground; he wore the yellow ascot
on his left arm like a maniple. Just behind
him,
the electric car cast
an absolutely square shadow on the white ground.
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