Back Stella Dallas
Chapters (30)
  1. Cover
  2. Femmes Fatales
  3. Title Page
  4. Chapter 1
  5. Chapter 2
  6. Chapter 3
  7. Chapter 4
  8. Chapter 5
  9. Chapter 6
  10. Chapter 7
  11. Chapter 8
  12. Chapter 9
  13. Chapter 10
  14. Chapter 11
  15. Chapter 12
  16. Chapter 13
  17. Chapter 14
  18. Chapter 15
  19. Chapter 16
  20. Chapter 17
  21. Chapter 18
  22. Chapter 19
  23. Chapter 20
  24. Chapter 21
  25. Chapter 22
  26. Chapter 23
  27. Chapter 24
  28. About the Author
  29. Also Available from Feminist Press
  30. About Feminist Press

For the first ten or fifteen minutes Laurel didn’t say a word. Not a single word! She sat in her perch in the bow, and steadily, rhythmically dipped her paddle into the water, drew it back, raised it, reached forward, dipped it into the water again. Richard, a few feet behind her, followed her slow revolutions. The effect upon him was almost hypnotic. It was awkward to be silent with most girls. He seldom was. Most girls avoided any such lapses as this. But Laurel Dallas would drift into silence as naturally, as unconsciously, as a canary, whose song is interrupted by some simple cause, and out of it in the same unexpected spontaneous fashion.

The crowd had been left far behind—they couldn’t even be heard—when Laurel and Richard slipped into a little sequestered cove, almost a cave, with a leaf-covered roof—a lovely spot. Instinctively both the paddles dug deep into the water and held the canoe stationary. Laurel lifted her paddle very gently, and laid it noiselessly across her knees. The only sound in the sylvan sanctuary was the drip—drip—drip of a few drops of water from her paddle’s broad end.

Finally Richard said softly from his seat behind Laurel, “Are you there?”

She broke into a low pleased laugh at that. “Every bit of me is here!”

“I wondered. You’ve been so noisy.”

She leaned her head back and gazed up at the blue sky through the low-hanging branches. She drew in her breath deep. “Oh, isn’t it too beautiful to be true!”

Richard, gazing only at her, thought it was! He didn’t say so, simply smiled and remarked, “You like the woods, don’t you?”

“I love them!” Laurel exclaimed.

But it wasn’t the woods she was loving so much just then. It was life. Life had never seemed so kind and generous, so good and beautiful to her as now! She sighed, then suddenly lifted her paddle, plunged it into the dark water at her side, and slipped out of the little cave-spot, into the sunshine again. Slipped out into silence again, too.

“You aren’t talking to me very much this morning,” later Richard informed her.

She made no reply.

“You’re a funny girl. I never knew a girl in my life who had silence for a line.”

“Do you want me to talk?”

“No.”

“When I’m in a canoe, near the shore, like this, I love sneaking around the corners on the birds and animals when they’re not expecting you, and see what they’re up to.”