Why could not
Hank have exerted himself more, instead of sitting there in that
stuffed way? Why could not Ruth have unbent? Why had not he himself
done something to save the situation? Of the three, he blamed himself
most. He was the one who should have taken the lead and made things
pleasant for everybody instead of forcing out conversational
platitudes.
Once or twice he had caught Hank's eye, and had hated himself for
understanding what it said and not being able to deny it. He had marked
the end of their old relationship, the parting of the ways, and that a
tragedy had been played out that night.
He found himself thinking of Hank as of a friend who had died. What
times they had had! How smoothly they had got on together! He could not
recall a single occasion on which they had fallen out, from the time
when they had fought as boys at the prep. school and cemented their
friendship the next day. After that there had been periods when they
had parted, sometimes for more than a year, but they had always come
together again and picked up the threads as neatly as if there had been
no gap in their intimacy.
He had gone to college: Hank had started on the roving life which
suited his temperament. But they had never lost touch with each other.
And now it was all over. They would meet again, but it would not be the
same.
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