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Chapters (28)
  1. Cover Page
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Prologue
  5. Part I
  6. I
  7. II
  8. III
  9. IV
  10. V
  11. VI
  12. VII
  13. VIII
  14. Part II
  15. I
  16. II
  17. III
  18. IV
  19. V
  20. VI
  21. VII
  22. VIII
  23. IX
  24. X
  25. XI
  26. XII
  27. Epilogue: November 1954
  28. A Biography of May Sarton

“I’m sorry.” Edward looked at her now for the first time, a long look as if he had reached the point where it no longer mattered whether anyone saw what she saw or not. For what she saw was love though its expression could, it seemed, only be pain. Then he pushed past her quite gently, but quite firmly, and they heard the front door close behind him.

“Damon, don’t let him go like this. Run after him. Bring him back,” she said quickly and then sat down.

“It’s no use. You know very well it’s no use. He wants to break away from us, God knows why. But he has to do it. That’s what I felt tonight.”

“It’s as if everyone had gone mad,” Julia said in a tight dry voice.

“I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t say any of the things I was thinking. I just couldn’t.” Damon walked up and down now, as he did when he was deeply disturbed.

“What things, darling? Say them to me.” But she was thinking, Edward is alone now. He is walking through the streets alone. He will go to bed alone. There is no one to whom he can say those things.

“I wanted to tell him that people like him are necessary, that there have to be conscientious objectors, guardians of conscience, there have to be the absolute people, and we honor them. But they are not the doers or the builders, in the long run, and I think part of Edward’s conflict is that he won’t admit this. He wants really to be active, not a speaking conscience, but deep in—that’s why the word ‘solidarity’ means so much to him. Only he can’t be, just because he is what he is, noble, uncompromising, absolute. So he’s caught.” The words came fast now, and Damon was finding his release.

“I wanted to go and hug him and take his hand, but I couldn’t,” Julia said. “Why couldn’t we?” Tears streamed down her cheeks. She paid no attention; they fell down her cheeks like Damon’s words, and Damon, walking up and down, did not see them. “Why can’t love help?”

“We’ve done all we can, Julia.” Damon flung himself down, his moment of lucidity, of understanding spent, and now only the exasperation, the tiredness, the sense of failure, ready to take over. “Love?” he said bitterly. “Edward doesn’t know what the word means.”

“No”—she blew her nose—“that’s not true. He can’t give love or take it, but he knows what it means. He knows all about it,” she said, “that’s what’s so terrible.”

Part II

part II

I

I