Susan nodded. She, too, was gazing spellbound. Her beloved
City of the Sun.
"But it is beautiful--beautiful beyond belief. And I have
always heard that New York was ugly."
"It is beautiful--and ugly--both beyond belief!" replied Susan.
"No wonder you love it!"
"Yes--I love it. I have loved it from the first moment I saw
it. I've never stopped loving it--not even----" She did not
finish her sentence but gazed dreamily at the city appearing
and disappearing in its veils of thin, luminous mist. Her
thoughts traveled again the journey of her life in New York.
When she spoke again, it was to say:
"Yes--when I first saw it--that spring evening--I called it my
City of the Stars, then, for I didn't know that it belonged to
the sun--Yes, that spring evening I was happier than I ever
had been--or ever shall be again."
"But you will be happy again "dear" said Clelie, tenderly
pressing her arm.
A faint sad smile--sad but still a smile--made Susan's
beautiful face lovely. "Yes, I shall be happy--not in those
ways--but happy, for I shall be busy. . . . No, I don't take the
tragic view of life--not at all. And as I've known misery, I
don't try to hold to it."
"Leave that," said Clelie, "to those who have known only the
comfortable make-believe miseries that rustle in crepe and
shed tears--whenever there's anyone by to see."
"Like the beggars who begin to whine and exhibit their
aggravated sores as soon as a possible giver comes into view,"
said Susan.
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