He exhaled.
“You might pay attention.”
“I was thinking.”
“I never thought you were a nature lover, but you’re certainly interested in the sky tonight,” he said.
“It’s very beautiful.”
“I was figuring,” said the husband slowly.
“I thought I’d call Hulle tonight.
I’d like to talk to him about us spending some time, oh, only a week or so, in the Blue Mountains.
It’s just an idea — ”
“The Blue Mountains!”
She held to the canopy rim with one hand, turning swiftly toward him.
“Oh, it’s just a suggestion.”
“When do you want to go?” she asked, trembling.
“I thought we might leave tomorrow morning.
You know, an early start and all that,” he said very casually.
“But we never go this early in the year!”
“Just this once, I thought — ” He smiled.
“Do us good to get away.
Some peace and quiet.
You know.
You haven’t anything else planned?
We’ll go, won’t we?”
She took a breath, waited, and then replied,
“No.”
“What?”
His cry startled the birds.
The canopy jerked.
“No,” she said firmly.
“It’s settled. I won’t go.”
He looked at her.
They did not speak after that.
She turned away.
The birds flew on, ten thousand flrebrands down the wind.
In the dawn the sun, through the crystal pillars, melted the fog that supported Ylla as she slept.
All night she had hung above the floor, buoyed by the soft carpeting of mist that poured from the walls when she lay down to rest.
All night she had slept on this silent river, like a boat upon a soundless tide.
Now the fog burned away, the mist level lowered until she was deposited upon the shore of wakening.
She opened her eyes.
Her husband stood over her.
He looked as if he had stood there for hours, watching.
She did not know why, but she could not look him in the face.
“You’ve been dreaming again!” he said.
“You spoke out and kept me awake.
I really think you should see a doctor.”
“I’ll be all right.”
“You talked a lot in your sleep!”
“Did I?”
She started up.
Dawn was cold in the room.
A gray light filled her as she lay there.