Her loyalty to Strathdene was compromised, her delicacy was
horrified. She was distraught with her plight.
She had to tell the news to Strathdene and he went into frenzies of
jealousy. She had pledged herself to be his as soon as she could lift
the Dyckman mortgage. If a man is ever going to be jealous he should
certainly find occasion for the passion when he is betrothed to the
wife of a returning soldier. Strathdene ought to have been on his way
back to the aviation-camp, but he had earned the right to humor his
nerves, and Kedzie was testing them beyond endurance.
It was a tragical-comical dilemma for Kedzie. Even she, with her
gift for self-forgiveness, could not quite see how she was to
explain prettily to her husband that in his absence she had fallen
in love with another man. Wives are not supposed to fall in love
while their husbands are at the wars. It has been done, but it is
hard to prettify.
Kedzie beat her forehead in vain for a good-looking explanation. She
was still hunting one when Jim came back. He telegraphed her that he
would come right through to Newport, and asked her to meet him at
the train. She dared not refuse. She simply could not keep her glib
promises to Strathdene. It seemed almost treason to the country for
a wife to give her warrior a cold welcome after his tropical service.
She met him at the Newport station. He was still in uniform. He had
taken no other clothes to Texas with him and had not stopped to buy
any.
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