Never before had Blix been
away from her home; never for longer than a week had she been
separated from her father, nor from Howard and Snooky. That huge
city upon the Atlantic seaboard, with its vast, fierce life, where
beat the heart of the nation, and where beyond Aunt Kihm she knew
no friend, filled Blix with a vague sense of terror and of
oppression. She was going out into a new life, a life of work and
of study, a harsher life than she had yet known. Her father, her
friends, her home--all these were to be left behind. It was not
surprising that Blix should be daunted at the prospect of so great
a change in her life, now so close at hand. But if the tears did
start at times, no one ever saw them fall, and with a courage that
was all her own Blix watched the last days of the year trooping
past and the approach of the New Year that was to begin the new
life.
But Condy was thoroughly unhappy. Those wonderful three months
were at an end. Blix was going. In less than a week now she
would be gone. He would see the last of her. Then what? He
pictured himself--when he had said good-by to her and the train
had lessened to a smoky blur in the distance--facing about, facing
the life that must then begin for him, returning to the city
alone, picking up the routine again. There would be nothing to
look forward to then; he would not see Blix in the afternoon;
would not sit with her in the evening in the little dining-room of
the flat overlooking the city and the bay; would not wake in the
morning with the consciousness that before the sun would set he
would see her again, be with her, and hear the sound of her voice.
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