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author: www-data <www-data@mail.pglaf.org> 2026-06-21 16:08:33 -0700
committer: www-data <www-data@mail.pglaf.org> 2026-06-21 16:08:33 -0700
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+/* Transcriber's notes */
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+
+<body>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78909 ***</div>
+
+
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp50" id="cover" style="max-width: 107.5625em;">
+  <img class="w20" src="images/cover.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption>
+    <p>Transcribed from Avon Science Fiction and Fantasy Reader, April 1953 (Vol. 1, no. 2).</p>
+  </figcaption>
+</figure>
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"><div class="chapter"></div>
+
+<h1>
+As Holy and Enchanted
+</h1>
+
+
+<p class="center f15">by <strong>Henderson Starke</strong></p>
+<p class="center f15">[Pseudonym of <strong>Kris Neville</strong>]</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"><div class="chapter"></div>
+
+
+<blockquote>
+<p><i>She was as fragile as a snowflake. Around her there was the
+heady, unspoiled spirit of Nature, and when Nick saw her he forgot
+about the petty troubles at the garage, forgot about the bustle and
+noise of the city, ignored the stinks and ugly sights of a giant
+metropolis—and found his way to the sorrow and heartbreak of an
+impossible love!</i></p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"><div class="chapter"></div>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp50" id="057" style="max-width: 46.875em;">
+  <img class="w20" src="images/057.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption>
+    <p>Illustrator: Norman Nodel</p>
+  </figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"><div class="chapter"></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p>For him spring mornings had a character all their own, an indefinable
+essence that the mornings of the other seasons never had. And the best
+spring morning of all was a Sunday spring morning—when he did not go
+to the shop, when he awoke in time to hear the sleepy chirping of
+the English sparrows in the false dawn, when he loved to lie in bed,
+sleepy-warm, and smell the sweet, new air and dream lazy dreams.</p>
+
+<p>Then
+when, beyond the skyline of dingy buildings, the heavens began to color
+rose, he would get out of bed and yawn and expect, secretly, that today
+something very fine and wonderful was going to happen to him.</p>
+
+<p>Those
+mornings, he would put on his only suit, somewhat shiny from use, his
+favorite blue tie, a clear-sky blue, clean his shoes and, whistling,
+hurry out to meet the sun so that he would not lose another minute of
+the wonderful new day.</p>
+
+<p>He always went first to the park. The park,
+before all the people came, was very quiet and peaceful. There was
+soft, lacy dew on the grass. And always, as he felt the trees around
+him, he imagined that he was far away from the city and in the midst
+of some delicate virginity, pure and sweet. The noises of civilization
+faded. The squirrels came out and chattered in the treetops.
+Occasionally he would hear the soft plunk of an acorn dropped from
+above. The birds’ songs were clear. And the little, burbling fountain
+was surrounded by cooing pigeons who sidled away, unafraid, to let him
+pass.</p>
+
+<p>One particular Sunday morning, the fairest yet of all the year,
+when he came to the edge of his park, he was aware, more intensely than
+ever before, that this was the day for the strange, wonderful thing
+to happen to him. As he walked along, the knowledge became unbearably
+sweet within him, and it made the inside of his nose tickle with
+emotion.</p>
+
+<p>The sun was fronted by the skyline, for it was newly risen.
+The air was fresh as only the air of spring can be. It was filled with
+the scents of new-born flowers and the long ago.</p>
+
+<p>He stepped from the
+gravel path upon which he had been walking and onto the springy grass;
+his mind was alive with the delicious sensation of secrecy. He imagined
+that this, his short-cut to the burbling fountain, was mysteriously
+concealed from others and belonged to him alone among mortals. He did
+not walk either too slow or too swift; slow enough to be conscious of
+all the sounds around him and all the little, life movements; swift
+enough to satisfy his urge to hurry on and meet the wonderful thing
+that would be sure to be waiting for him among the pigeons.</p>
+
+<p>All at
+once, rudely shattering his thoughts, he heard an unusual, frantic
+fluttering from a treetop to his left. He turned his head in time to
+see a brown sparrow falling toward the earth, desperately trying to
+break its fall.</p>
+
+<p>At the first instantaneous image, he felt sorry for it;
+scarcely with thought, he walked to where it lay on the grass, hoping
+there might be some way he could help it.</p>
+
+<p>The sparrow was panting and,
+seeing the man-form, it fluttered its wings in fear.</p>
+
+<p>He bent quickly
+to pick it up; it cheep-cheeped shrilly. He was very careful not to
+hurt it. He could feel its tiny heart beating against the palm of his
+hand. Gently as he could, he felt of its wings and its legs to see if
+they were broken and was relieved to find that they were not.</p>
+
+<p>“Hello.”</p>
+
+<p>The girl’s voice was very sweet and very startling. Sweet because of
+some melodious quality, like that of a native ballad singer; startling
+because he had thought himself alone.</p>
+
+<p>In quick surprise, he opened his
+hand; the sparrow fluttered and then flew. He stared at his hand, at
+the disappearing bird, and then turned to the speaker.</p>
+
+<p>“You did fix him,” the girl said. “I was sure you were going to, and that’s why
+I spoke.”</p>
+
+<p>He felt a shuddery current, something like fear, although
+strangely pleasant, creep up his spine. She was a beautiful girl, lithe
+and slender, and straight as a Georgia pine. Her hair was sunrise gold;
+her eyes, the brown of hazel nuts; and her teeth, uncovered by lips
+dewy with youth, flashed white in a quick, easy smile that reminded
+him of polar snow.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m Mona,” she said, holding out her slim, white hand to him.</p>
+
+<p>Slowly he reached out to meet the hand. It felt warm and
+firm in his. He continued to stare blankly into her face, and then,
+realizing that he was being very impolite, he felt his face begin to
+redden.</p>
+
+<p>“Hello,” he said, for want of anything better to say.</p>
+
+<p>She
+withdrew her hand; he felt the absence of it sharply.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s your
+name?” she asked. Her voice was like no voice he had ever heard; it was
+open and vibrant and warm and friendly and thrilling. It had just the
+trace of an accent.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m—I’m Nick.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nick,” she said, “Nick,” drawing
+out the word as if she were taking it apart with her voice and finding
+all the hidden layers of meaning in it. “I like that name.” Then,
+seeing that he was still watching her, she smiled with pleasure and
+pirouetted skillfully on the grass, making her snow-white skirt billow
+out with the movement, holding her arms wide apart. She ended up facing
+him again. “It <i>is</i> a beautiful dress, isn’t it?”</p>
+
+<p>He said, “Yes; it’s a beautiful dress.”</p>
+
+<p>She laughed, and her laughter was like little bells,
+or like the silvery tinkle of a fast-flowing mountain brook. “I’m
+glad,” she said. “I thought it would be what you liked.” She tossed
+her head, making her hair flash out around it in a momentary, magic
+halo.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re—beautiful, too,” he said. Immediately, he was chilled by
+the thought that she might turn and run away like a frightened faun.</p>
+
+<p>“Do you really think so?”</p>
+
+<p>“You’re more beautiful than anything I’ve
+ever seen,” he said. “...I shouldn’t have said that. It just—sort of
+came out.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m glad it did.” She laughed again, and then she was
+beside him, her hand lightly resting upon his arm. He could smell the
+flower-fresh nearness of her; his throat swelled when she looked up
+into his face.</p>
+
+<p>“I hoped you’d like me,” she said.</p>
+
+<p>He felt lost in her
+eyes, her beautiful, brown eyes. He said nothing, for there was nothing
+to say, and a numbness was in his mind.</p>
+
+<p>“Are you working today?” she asked.</p>
+
+<p>Behind the numbness, there were puzzles, but looking down at
+her, he was sure they were not essential, and he wished they would go
+away; the important thing was just to answer her and hear her voice
+again.</p>
+
+<p>“No, Mona,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>She wrinkled her brow prettily. “Oh; I
+thought you were working.... When I saw you here, I thought you were,
+and that’s why I knew to speak to you, but I’m glad you’re not.
+...I have a whole week to myself, and it’s wonderful, isn’t it?”</p>
+
+<p>He said, “I think it’s very wonderful.”</p>
+
+<p>“Where were you going, just now?” she
+asked, widening her eyes in innocent questioning.</p>
+
+<p>“Me?” he said, and
+then he was embarrassed for saying it, because of course she meant him.
+“Oh, o—h. Just walking. Over to the fountain. The pigeons all come
+down to drink, early in the morning, before the people come....” Her
+smile was warm. “You know the fountain with the pigeons around it?” he
+finished, having lost the thread of thought in her smile.</p>
+
+<p>“No,” she said. “I don’t belong here.” And then she said, as if it explained
+everything, “I belong in Nebraska and Australia. I just came here for a
+week before I have to go on down to Australia.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>“Which way is the fountain? I’d love to see it; it must be quite pretty if
+you like it.”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s—it’s just a fountain.... I’ll—I’ll show it to you,
+if you want me to.”</p>
+
+<p>“Of course I do.”</p>
+
+<p>And the two of them, her hand
+lightly on his arm, began to walk through the park. “You’re the first
+one I’ve met down here,” she said. “I was so in hopes I’d meet some of
+us; it’s lonely with no one to talk to.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” he said, “I know. I’m often lonely.”</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes turned serious-sympathetic. “I’m sorry,” she
+said, and her voice was full of understanding in a way he had never
+imagined possible. “I’m very sorry, Nick....” And then, with a little
+shout of joy, “Oh! That must be your wonderful fountain!”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” he
+said. Only now it did not seem so wonderful. He wanted to show her all
+the things more wonderful. He thought of the sunrise on tall mountains,
+and the flat, level blue of the ocean off Hawaii, and the burning of
+pine logs in a New England fireplace when the snow lay piled outside
+and the air was sharp, and the high, tumbling waterfalls in Africa
+that broke into rainbow spray, and all the other marvelous things he
+had read about during all his life.</p>
+
+<p>She ran from him, scattering the
+startled pigeons, who fluttered a few feet and immediately resumed
+their endless search for food, to sit down on the old stone rim of the
+fountain. She dipped her hand lightly in the water; she drew it along
+with a free, graceful movement that was like a caress. “It feels so
+nice,” she said. “I like water very much. Clear water. Like rain.”
+She stared dreamily into it. “I work with water every day—almost and
+yet: It’s always so beautiful.”</p>
+
+<p>He had not moved. “You’re beautiful,” he said again in child-like wonder, knowing that to say it would not
+make her run away.</p>
+
+<p>“Silly! You weren’t listening to what I said!” She
+flipped some of the water from her hand, playfully. Then, when she saw
+it hit on his suit, she sprang up....</p>
+
+<p>“Oh! I’m sorry, Nicky. I didn’t
+mean to get your suit all wet.” She stood before him, looking up at
+him. “And such a pretty suit. You won’t be mad at me, will you? Because
+then you’d go away and I wouldn’t have anyone to talk to.”</p>
+
+<p>He felt the
+lump in his throat; it had been there for a long time. “Mona,” he said,
+“I don’t think I’d ever want to go away.”</p>
+
+<p>“You say the nicest things.” She took his hand and drew him, with gentle pressure, to the stones of
+the fountain. The pigeons, cooing softly, opened a little isle for them
+that closed as soon as they had passed.</p>
+
+<p>“Sit down, Nicky,” she said.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment she sat there beside him, silent, staring into the unquiet
+water, seeing the flicker and gleam of darting goldfish outlined
+sharply against the green of the gently waving moss. The falling water
+sprayed and dimpled the surface, making the fish seem fluidly unreal.</p>
+
+<p>He watched the mirrored mood on her face.</p>
+
+<p>“I think you have one of
+the best jobs,” she said.</p>
+
+<p>Instinctively, he looked away from her and
+stared into the burbling fountain, too. Thinking of his job made him
+briefly miserable. His face grew hot. Then he was afraid she would see
+that he was ashamed. That made it all the worse. He hoped she was still
+staring into the water.</p>
+
+<p>Looking back at her, he saw that she seemed
+dainty, fragile, somehow like a snowflake or a delicate crystal or
+something that would shatter with the first rumble of horizon thunder.
+He knew he must never say anything she did not want him to say—or she
+might go away, and he would never see her again.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s all right,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>“I think it’s the most wonderful job,” she insisted gently.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” he said. “Yes, I suppose it really is.”</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly she asked, “Did you notice the sunrise this morning?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>“It was a beautiful sunrise. Robert does them for Nebraska—do you know him?—and
+he’s very good—but I don’t know: this one, this morning: I think they
+must use more colors, down here.”</p>
+
+<p>He felt his throat constrict. He
+felt cold inside. He said, “I think they must,” and waited.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, I guess they do,” she said, smiling up at him. “Oh! I’m so glad I met
+you!” She held out both of her hands, and he took them in his.</p>
+
+<p>“Hazel
+eyes,” he said, “beautiful hazel eyes.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nicky,” she said, “could you get off? I have the whole week here.”</p>
+
+<p>“I—I—.”</p>
+
+<p>“And you could show me the city—if you wanted to—that would be fun—don’t you think so?—do
+you often go into the city at all?—and take me dancing, and—it would
+be just wonderful if you could.”</p>
+
+<p>She sprang away from him and danced
+around him, laughing, humming a little, sad-funny tune that he had
+never heard. “I’m a very good dancer.” And she spun in a series of
+intricate steps, executed with happy grace.</p>
+
+<p>When she ceased, her cheeks
+were rosy from her efforts, and her breath came quickly. “Come.” She
+held out her hand. “Let’s walk, and you can talk to me, and I can talk
+to you, and neither of us will be lonely.”</p>
+
+<p>He stood, and she came to
+him. “Lead me,” she said. “Show me your wonderful park.”</p>
+
+<p>They began to
+walk; and, as they walked, she chattered happily, occasionally looking
+up at him for approval, talking of the trees and the birds and the wind
+and the grass and the change of the seasons. She talked in youth and
+enthusiasm. Once she paused to laugh at a gray squirrel, and it looked
+down at her quizzically, over the acorn it was holding in its forepaws.</p>
+
+<p>He listened and half listened and sometimes only heard the sweet melody
+of her voice, rising and falling, reminding him of the pleasant wind
+in the scented trees and the quiet sea.</p>
+
+<p>Time moved, or stood still,
+or was not; it did not matter.</p>
+
+<p>Then, in their aimless walk, they came
+to the edge of the park and looked out on the city.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh! How very big
+and pretty. And exciting! Do you often go out there, Nicky?”</p>
+
+<p>“Quite often,” he said, wanting to go back into the park, afraid that the city
+would break and shatter her with its many muted rumbles.</p>
+
+<p>“It must be
+fun—to be where you’re able to. You’ll show it to me, won’t you? You
+promised, remember? And tell me about it? About the buildings? And
+the streets?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” he said, taking her hand; she squeezed in soft,
+answering pressure. “If you really want to see it.”</p>
+
+<p>Like two little
+children, hand in hand, they walked out into the city.</p>
+
+<p>Their feet made
+the sharp clatter of the city; the Sunday traffic made the subdued roar
+of the city; the people’s voices made the dry-sadness of the city.</p>
+
+<p>Her
+questions came quickly, tumbling over themselves in flying curiosity,
+jumping with the speed of thought from subject to subject. He answered
+them all, softly, quietly, as if talking to a little girl who was first
+seeing the city and trying to know it all in a single hour. It gave
+him a sweet sense of belonging, and her eager wonder at his knowledge
+filled him with a pride and a joy he had never known.</p>
+
+<p>“Here,” he said, pointing to a new-shiny building, with doors gleaming with brass and
+windows sparkling with sunshine. “This. It’s built on the very spot
+where an ancient, Spanish monastery once stood.”</p>
+
+<p>“You know so very
+much. About the strangest things—about these people.”</p>
+
+<p>“I come here often,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>“...We’ve been walking for a long time,” she said.</p>
+
+<p>“Are you tired?”</p>
+
+<p>“Not very.”</p>
+
+<p>“Neither am I,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>“No; you only get
+tired when you’re lonely; and we’re not....” Her voice trailed away.
+“Look, Nicky! A tree.... It seems funny to see a tree here, among
+all these buildings: like it was growing out of the pavement instead
+of the ground.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; it does seem like that,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>“I wonder if
+it’s a happy tree; do you think so, Nicky?”</p>
+
+<p>“I guess it is....”</p>
+
+<p>“Look: Mona?” he said.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes?”</p>
+
+<p>“I.... Look: Are you hungry?”</p>
+
+<p>“...Are you?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” he said, “Let’s go eat.”</p>
+
+<p>“All right.” She laughed lightly. “That sounds like fun.”</p>
+
+<p>When, shortly, they arrived at the
+door of a restaurant, he said, “Go on in.”</p>
+
+<p>“It’ll be all right?” she asked doubtfully.</p>
+
+<p>“Of course.”</p>
+
+<p>He guided her to a table and, when they
+ordered, she followed his lead, saying what he said, watching the
+waitress cautiously, out of the corner of her eye.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know how
+you do it,” she said, looking up after the girl had left their table.
+“I’d be afraid to death, if you weren’t with me.”</p>
+
+<p>“You get used to
+it,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>“Of course you do.... Nicky? I’d love to live here—where
+I could come into the city—do all these wonderful things—whenever I
+wanted to.”</p>
+
+<p>“Would you really like to live here?” he asked, and his
+voice sounded dry and strained.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, very much, Nicky. I’d love to
+live here—almost better than anything.” And having said that, she was
+suddenly very shy; she looked down at the snowy tablecloth and ran her
+fingertips over it.</p>
+
+<p>He was not sure what to say; the palms of his hands
+were moist. And he was glad when the lunch arrived.</p>
+
+<p>After the waitress
+left, they looked up and stared into each other’s eyes.</p>
+
+<p>“Well,” he
+said, looking down at the food, “it looks all right to me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,”
+she said, “it’s just fine.”</p>
+
+<p>There was a motionless silence.</p>
+
+<p>“Well,” he said. He picked up his water-glass and sipped, watching her.</p>
+
+<p>She picked up her glass and sipped, watching him.</p>
+
+<p>He put the glass down and
+speared into the salad with his fork. She imitated him. She chewed the
+salad carefully. She said, hesitatingly, “It’s very good, isn’t it?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” he said, “it sure is.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ummmm,” she said.</p>
+
+<p>He broke off a piece of french bread, buttered it.</p>
+
+<p>She broke off a piece of french bread, buttered it.</p>
+
+<p>“Look—?” he said.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes?”</p>
+
+<p>“—Nothing.”</p>
+
+<p>She took more salad. “Does it snow often, here?”</p>
+
+<p>“Snow?” He put down his knife across the
+edge of his plate. “...Hasn’t for years. Last time was thirty-three,
+I think.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, yes,” she said. “I remember, now.”</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>When the lights in the theater went off, she stiffened. And, with
+the first trumpet jar of the newsreel music, she said, “Ohhhh,” very
+softly. After that, for a few minutes, she was on the edge of her seat,
+watching wide-eyed. Once she said, “Oh, Nicky, look!”</p>
+
+<p>But soon she
+settled down and rested her head on his shoulder. He slipped his arm
+around her. It seemed natural that he should. She moved closer to him;
+her hand found his. She made a little noise, deep in her throat, like
+a purr. “I like this,” she whispered. “Better than anything I’ve ever
+done.”</p>
+
+<p>He kissed her silken hair, knew the electric nearness of her,
+and nothing else mattered.</p>
+
+<p>When the movie was over, they walked again;
+sunset brooded in the west; the air was warm and exotic, as if blowing
+from the far away, from a never, never land of strange, perfumed
+flowers. And the day had been long and sweet.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>The cab swung into the paved semi-circle before the tall building.
+They got out. In the dim light, her dress glowed whitely; she stared
+up and up, her eyes widening with the vast height of the building.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s on the roof,” he whispered to her, as soon as he had paid the
+cab.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m—I’m afraid,” she half whimpered.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s only a dance,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>They walked into the hotel and through the huge lobby, feeling,
+in that moment, alone against the world. She pressed to him as if for
+protection. Beautifully dressed people moved around them, so rich
+with assurance.</p>
+
+<p>They crossed the foyer; they entered the elevator
+with an elderly man in a tuxedo; “The Top,” the man said, as if he
+were accustomed to saying it.</p>
+
+<p>Nick wondered if he had enough money.
+He had heard that this was an expensive place.</p>
+
+<p>“Ohhhhh,” she said
+as the elevator began to move.</p>
+
+<p>The elderly gentleman looked at her
+strangely.</p>
+
+<p>Nick patted her arm and smiled at her; she smiled back,
+uncertainly.</p>
+
+<p>When the elevator sighed to a stop, the operator slid
+open the door. The three passengers stepped out.</p>
+
+<p>The sight of the
+room; the music; the muted sigh of conversation; the lights; the women
+with their jewelry; the reflection in the curved mirror of the bar;
+the smell of food; the deep, blood-red, silencing carpet.</p>
+
+<p>She seemed
+overcome with the bright glitter of it. He felt cold and a little
+frightened with the strange glamor of it. It was something like a
+movie set; unreal, like that, to him. He wondered how the men moved
+with such poise.</p>
+
+<p>After a few moments, the head waiter came to them; he
+raised his eyebrows as if to ask if they had a reservation, then he
+seemed to reconsider. “A table for two, sir?” he asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes.... Please,” Nick said.</p>
+
+<p>“If you’ll come this way, sir...?”</p>
+
+<p>They followed him.</p>
+
+<p>And they were seated. The table was small and secluded.</p>
+
+<p>He sat
+very stiffly, waiting, very conscious of his shiny suit. She turned
+immediately toward the dance floor. She watched the dancing bodies
+mold together in waltz rhythm; she swayed with them, and her eyes
+were wide and starry with rapt attention. She turned back to him. “I
+never knew it was this wonderful,” she said, “and it almost makes you
+wish....”</p>
+
+<p>“Wish what?” he asked, after a moment.</p>
+
+<p>She studied his face
+as if memorizing it; her eyes seemed suddenly turned sad. “Nothing,
+Nicky,” she said.</p>
+
+<p>Eventually, the silent waiter handed them huge, elaborate menus.</p>
+
+<p>He glanced at his and felt a momentary sickness; it
+passed, and he was ashamed of it.</p>
+
+<p>“Would you like to eat?” he asked,
+but his voice sounded thin to his ears.</p>
+
+<p>She stared across the menu at
+him. “Silly! We’ve already eaten: have you forgotten?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, that’s right.” He tried a smile at the waiter that didn’t quite come off.
+“A drink, then?” he asked her.</p>
+
+<p>“Should we?”</p>
+
+<p>“This once,” he said. “What
+would you like?”</p>
+
+<p>“Whatever you’d like.”</p>
+
+<p>“Champagne,” he said, because
+he had read that men who felt like he felt should buy champagne for the
+girl they felt that way about.</p>
+
+<p>The waiter bowed. “Yes, sir.” He began
+to name champagnes.</p>
+
+<p>Nick listened, repeated the fifth name after the
+waiter; he hoped it would be all right.</p>
+
+<p>When they were alone again, he
+looked across at her. “Darling,” he said, surprised at his own courage.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes?” Her lips were shining red.</p>
+
+<p>“Darling, I.... I.... I....” He knew
+perfectly well what he wanted to say. He was annoyed to find that his
+voice refused to respond. The moment passed. “Do you like champagne?”
+he finished desperately.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know. Do you?”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s—all right.”</p>
+
+<p>“If it’s what you like, I’ll like it too,” she said.</p>
+
+<p>After the wine was in
+their glasses, he raised his and sipped to her.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s all funny-bubbly and sour,” she said. Then hastily, “But I like it, Nicky; I really do.”</p>
+
+<p>His hand curled the stem of his glass; the vessel seemed springily
+cushioned on the heavy whiteness of the tablecloth.</p>
+
+<p>“Nick,” she said. “Every minute’s been wonderful.” Color came into her cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>He looked
+down at the rising, breaking bubbles and spoke to them softly. “I
+don’t know how to say this. I’ve never said it before. I wouldn’t say
+it to any other girl, ever.” He was surprised to hear the words; and
+glad and afraid. “Mona,” he said, “I’m in love with you. I’ve known
+it for hours.” He did not look up.</p>
+
+<p>There was silence; he thought he
+heard her sigh, wistfully.</p>
+
+<p>“Nicky, Nicky. I knew I loved you when I saw
+you there, fixing that poor, little bird.”</p>
+
+<p>He looked up, then.</p>
+
+<p>“But Nick,” she said, “I’m afraid that you....”</p>
+
+<p>“No. Don’t spoil it. Don’t say anything. Right now. We’ll have to say things later. Be still and
+listen, now.”</p>
+
+<p>They listened; and then they danced; they danced on a
+carpet of clouds.</p>
+
+<p>“Hold me tight,” she whispered, “very tight, and say
+that you love me.”</p>
+
+<p>She danced airy and delicate and snuggled warmly,
+and her white dress flowed in animated grace, coming alive around her.</p>
+
+<p>The room glided away and back, to the dip and swoop of the waltz, and
+she followed him, her head thrown back slightly, her lips half parted,
+her eyes lightly closed and fluttering.</p>
+
+<p>He found himself dancing slowly
+toward the door and out of the room, onto the open terrace, into the
+pale moonlight of the waning moon. It seemed, almost, as if, somehow,
+she had led him, very gently.</p>
+
+<p>They stopped dancing and walked to the
+edge and looked down on the city sparkling there under them.</p>
+
+<p>She was warm in his arm.</p>
+
+<p>He turned to her, looked down into her wonderful eyes,
+and the stars of the city and the sky, too, were there.</p>
+
+<p>Her face seemed
+alive with the moment, in a life drawn from all the wonderful, eloquent
+silences of vast nature; her delicately molded features were impossibly
+perfect; and her skin was smooth and life-blood warm. And yet, there
+was sadness there, too.</p>
+
+<p>“Mona,” he whispered, “will you marry me?”</p>
+
+<p>“I—don’t know,” she breathed softly. “Oh, Nick, I do so hope so!”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t understand,” he said. “I—want—to,” she said very slowly. “Only
+I couldn’t come down here. You see, I only know one job. But maybe,
+in a little while, in just a few years, you could get a transfer and
+come to Nebraska.”</p>
+
+<p>“Mona,” he said, “you wouldn’t have to work.” He
+felt her stiffen in his arms. “Of course, at first, it might be hard.”
+He went on talking, but he knew she wasn’t listening. “But I can get
+promotions; I know I can, if I have you to work for.... I’m not making
+very much now, but maybe in a couple of years, I’ll be a foreman, and
+then....”</p>
+
+<p>She drew away. “Oh, Nick, oh, no.” Her voice was a choked
+sob. “I thought....” She checked herself. “And then I was afraid
+that you....” She looked up at him and said, in a whisper, “Nick, what
+is your job?”</p>
+
+<p>“It isn’t much, now, darling, but....”</p>
+
+<p>“Please, Nick. What is it?”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m a mechanic,” he said; it made him feel miserable;
+because he knew that was not what she wanted to hear.</p>
+
+<p>She moaned. “I—I
+was—afraid.... No. I guess I knew, down deep, from the first, that
+you weren’t.... But I wouldn’t believe it. I wouldn’t <i>let</i> myself
+believe it. In the city, I was almost sure, once, but I couldn’t ask
+you. When—I saw you—in the park—with that—that bird, I thought your job
+was to—to fix all the little birds and animals that got hurt—and then
+when you said, before the <i>people</i> come to the fountain, I was almost
+sure, for a little while, and then afterwards, I was afraid to ask,
+when I wasn’t sure any more. But....</p>
+
+<p>“You weren’t; you aren’t,” she finished hopelessly.</p>
+
+<p>“Mona,” he said, “please don’t say those things.
+You’re talking nonsense.”</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head. “No, Nick. Not nonsense.”</p>
+
+<p>She began to cry. She stood very still and very straight. Her lower lip
+trembled. “Nick,” she said, “it’s been the most wonderful day ever; and
+I’ll never forget it. Not ever.</p>
+
+<p>“Nick,” she said, very softly, “I’m
+sorry I did this to you.” She started to put out her hand to caress his
+face, and then she drew it back without touching him.</p>
+
+<p>He swallowed and
+wanted to touch her and take her in his arms and say, “It’s a dream,
+what you’re saying, you don’t mean it, you’re just teasing me and
+you....” But he said, “Mona, Mona, what is your job?” And he said it
+so low that she could scarcely hear him.</p>
+
+<p>She looked deep into his eyes,
+and her lip was quivering.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, Nick, Nick. Darling.” Her voice was an
+eerie whisper now. “Nick, I make snowflakes.”</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly he was alone. He
+turned his eyes up to the mute stars. And he felt something soft and
+wet strike against his hot face; they were like gentle kisses; and he
+knew what they were.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter"></div><div class="transnote">
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="Transcribers_note">
+    Transcriber’s note:
+  </h2>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>This etext was produced from Avon Science Fiction and Fantasy Reader,
+April 1953 (Vol. 1, no. 2).</p>
+
+<p>Obvious errors have been silently corrected in this version, but
+minor inconsistencies have been retained as printed.</p>
+</blockquote>
+</div>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78909 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
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author	www-data <www-data@mail.pglaf.org>	2026-06-21 16:08:33 -0700
committer	www-data <www-data@mail.pglaf.org>	2026-06-21 16:08:33 -0700
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