The flat was now furnished, and the beginning of autumn saw it
occupied by the two friends. Realization in this instance lacked the
delight of anticipation. At last Katherine was the bachelor girl she
had longed to be, but the pleasures of freedom were as Dead Sea fruit
to the lips. At last Dorothy was effectually cut off from all thoughts
of slavery, with unlimited money to do what she pleased with, yet
after all, of what advantage was it in solving the problem that
haunted her by day and filled her dreams by night. She faced the world
with seeming unconcern, for she had not the right to mourn, even if
she knew he were dead. He had made no claim; had asked for no
affection; had written no word to her but what all the world might
read. Once a week she made a little journey up the Hudson to see how
her church was coming on, and at first Katherine accompanied her, but
now she went alone. Katherine was too honest a girl to pretend an
interest where she felt none. She could not talk of architecture when
she was thinking of a man and his fate. At first she had been
querulously impatient when no second communication came. Her own
letters, she said, must have reached him, otherwise they would have
been returned. Later, dumb fear took possession of her, and she grew
silent, plunged with renewed energy into her books, joined a technical
school, took lessons, and grew paler and paler until her teachers
warned her she was overdoing it.
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