Book V: Chapter IV

by Sherwood Anderson

　　During the days since she had seen McGregor Margaret had thought ofhim almost constantly. She weighed and balanced her own inclinationsand decided that if the opportunity came she would marry the man whoseforce and courage had so appealed to her. She was half disappointedthat the opposition she had seen in her father's face when she hadtold him of McGregor and had betrayed herself by her tears did notbecome more active. She wanted to fight, to defend the man she hadsecretly chosen. When nothing was said of the matter she went to hermother and tried to explain. "We will have him here," the mother saidquickly. "I am giving a reception next week. I will make him the chieffigure. Let me have his name and address and I will attend to thematter."

　　Laura arose and went into the house. A shrewd gleam came into hereyes. "He will act like a fool before our people," she told herself."He is a brute and will be made to look like a brute." She could notrestrain her impatience and sought out David. "He is a man to fear,"she said; "he would stop at nothing. You must think of some way to putan end to Margaret's interest in him. Do you know of a better planthan to have him here where he will look the fool?"

　　David took the cigar from his lips. He felt annoyed and irritated thatan affair concerning Margaret had been brought forward for discussion.In his heart he also feared McGregor. "Let it alone," he said sharply."She is a woman grown and has more judgment and good sense than anyother woman I know." He got up and threw the cigar over the verandainto the grass. "Women are not understandable," he half shouted. "Theydo inexplicable things, have inexplicable fancies. Why do they not goforward along straight lines like a sane man? I years ago gave upunderstanding you and now I am being compelled to give upunderstanding Margaret."

　　* * * * *At Mrs. Ormsby's reception McGregor appeared arrayed in the black suithe had purchased for his mother's funeral. His flaming red hair andrude countenance arrested the attention of all. About him on all sidescrackled talk and laughter. As Margaret had been alarmed and ill atease in the crowded court room where a fight for life went on, so heamong these people who went about uttering little broken sentences andlaughing foolishly at nothing, felt depressed and uncertain. In themidst of the company he occupied much the same position as a new andferocious animal safely caught and now on caged exhibition. Theythought it clever of Mrs. Ormsby to have him and he was, in not quitethe accepted sense, the lion of the evening. The rumour that he wouldbe there had induced more than one woman to cut other engagements andcome to where she could take the hand of and talk with this hero ofthe newspapers, and the men shaking his hand, looked at him sharplyand wondered what power and what cunning lay in him.

　　In the newspapers after the murder trial a cry had sprung up about theperson of McGregor. Fearing to print in full the substance of hisspeech on vice, its ownership and its significance, they had filledtheir columns with talk of the man. The huge Scotch lawyer of theTenderloin was proclaimed as something new and startling in the greymass of the city's population. Then as in the brave days that followedthe man caught irresistibly the imagination of writing men, himselfdumb in written or spoken words except in the heat of an inspiredoutburst when he expressed perfectly that pure brute force, the lustfor which sleeps in the souls of artists.

　　Unlike the men the beautifully gowned women at the reception had nofear of McGregor. They saw in him something to be tamed and conqueredand they gathered in groups to engage him in talk and return theinquiring stare in his eyes. They thought that with such anunconquered soul about, life might take on new fervour and interest.Like the women who sat playing with toothpicks in O'Toole'srestaurant, more than one of the women at Mrs. Ormsby's reception hada half unconscious wish that such a man might be her lover.

　　One after another Margaret brought forward the men and women of herworld to couple their names with McGregor's and try to establish himin the atmosphere of assurance and ease that pervaded the house andthe people. He stood by the wall bowing and staring boldly about andthought that the confusion and distraction of mind that had followedhis first visit to Margaret at the settlement house was beingincreased immeasurably with every passing moment. He looked at theglittering chandelier on the ceiling and at the people moving about--the men at ease, comfortable--the women with wonderfully delicateexpressive hands and with their round white necks and shouldersshowing above their gowns and a feeling of utter helplessness pervadedhim. Never before had he been in a company so feminine. He thought ofthe beautiful women about him, seeing them in his direct crude andforceful way merely as females at work among males, carrying forwardsome purpose. "With all the softly suggestive sensuality of theirdress and their persons they must in some way have sapped the strengthand the purpose of these men who move among them so indifferently," hethought. Within himself he knew of nothing to set up as a defenceagainst what he believed such beauty must become to the man who livedwith it. Its power he thought must be something monumental and helooked with admiration at the quiet face of Margaret's father, movingamong his guests.

　　McGregor went out of the house and stood in the half darkness on theveranda. When Mrs. Ormsby and Margaret followed he looked at the olderwoman and sensed her antagonism. The old love of battle swept in onhim and he turned and stood in silence looking at her. "The finelady," he thought, "is no better than the women of the First Ward. Shehas an idea I will surrender without a fight."

　　Out of his mind went the fear of the assurance and stability ofMargaret's people that had almost overcome him in the house. The womanwho had all her life thought of herself as one waiting only theopportunity to appear as a commanding figure in affairs made by herpresence a failure of the effort to submerge McGregor.

　　* * * * *On the veranda stood the three people. McGregor the silent became thetalkative. Seized with one of the inspirations that were a part of hisnature he threw talk about, sparring and returning thrust for thrustwith Mrs. Ormsby. When he thought that the time had come for him toget at the thing that was in his mind he went into the house andpresently came out carrying his hat. The quality of harshness thatcrept into his voice when he was excited or determined startled LauraOrmsby. Looking down at her, he said, "I am going to take yourdaughter for a walk in the street. I want to talk with her."

　　Laura hesitated and smiled uncertainly. She determined to speak out,to be like the man crude and direct. When she had her mind fixed andready Margaret and McGregor were already half way down the gravel walkto the gate and the opportunity to distinguish herself had passed.

　　* * * * *McGregor walked beside Margaret, absorbed in thoughts of her. "I amengaged in a work here," he said, waving his hand vaguely toward thecity. "It is a big work and it takes a lot out of me. I have not cometo see you, because I've been uncertain. I've been afraid you wouldovercome me and drive thoughts of the work out of my head."

　　By the iron gate at the end of the gravel walk they turned and facedeach other. McGregor leaned against the brick wall and looked at her."I want you to marry me," he said. "I think of you constantly.Thinking of you I can only half do my work. I get to thinking thatanother man may come and take you and I waste hour after hour beingafraid."

　　She put a trembling hand upon his arm and he thinking to check anattempt at an answer before he had finished, hurried on.

　　"There are things to be said and understood between us before I cancome to you as a suitor. I did not think I should feel toward a womanas I feel toward you and I have certain adjustments to make. I thoughtI could get along without your kind of women. I thought you were notfor me--with the work I have thought out to do in the world. If youwill not marry me I'll be glad to know now so that I can get my mindstraightened out."

　　Margaret raised her hand and laid it on his shoulder. The act was akind of acknowledgment of his right to talk to her so directly. Shesaid nothing. Filled with a thousand messages of love and tendernessshe longed to pour into his ear she stood in silence on the gravelpath with her hand on his shoulder.

　　And then an absurd thing happened. The fear that Margaret might cometo some quick decision that would affect all of their future togethermade McGregor frantic. He did not want her to speak and wished his ownwords unsaid. "Wait. Not now," he cried and threw up his handintending to take her hand. His fist struck the arm that lay on hisshoulder and it in turn knocked his hat flying into the road. McGregorstarted to run after it and then stopped. He put his hand to his headand appeared lost in thought. When he turned again to pursue the hatMargaret, unable longer to control herself, shouted with laughter.

　　Hatless, McGregor walked up Drexel Boulevard in the soft stillness ofthe summer night. He was annoyed at the outcome of the evening and inhis heart half wished that Margaret had sent him away defeated. Hisarms ached to have her against his breast but his mind kept presentingone after another the objections to marriage with her. "Men aresubmerged by such women and forget their work," he told himself. "Theysit looking into the soft brown eyes of their beloved, thinking ofhappiness. A man should go about his work thinking of that. The firethat runs through the veins of his body should light his mind. Onewants to take the love of woman as an end in life and the womanaccepts that and is made happy by it." He thought with gratitude ofEdith in her shop on Monroe Street. "I do not sit in my room at nightdreaming of taking her in my arms and pouring kisses on her lips," hewhispered.

　　* * * * *In the door of her house Mrs. Ormsby had stood watching McGregor andMargaret. She had seen them stop at the end of the walk. The figure ofthe man was lost in shadows and that of Margaret stood alone, outlinedagainst a distant light. She saw Margaret's hand thrust out--was sheclutching his sleeve--and heard the murmur of voices. And then the manprecipitating himself into the street. His hat catapulted ahead of himand a quick outburst of half-hysterical laughter broke the stillness.

　　Laura Ormsby was furious. Although she hated McGregor she could notbear the thought that laughter should break the spell of romance. "Sheis just like her father," she muttered. "At least she might show somespirit and not be like a wooden thing, ending her first talk with alover with a laugh like that."

　　As for Margaret she stood in the darkness trembling with happiness.She imagined herself going up the dark stairway to McGregor's officein Van Buren Street where once she had gone to take him news of themurder case--laying her hand upon his shoulder and saying, "Take me inyour arms and kiss me. I am your woman. I want to live with you. I amready to renounce my people and my world and to live your life foryour sake." Margaret, standing in the darkness before the huge oldhouse in Drexel Boulevard, imagined herself with Beaut McGregor--living with him as his wife in a small apartment over a fish market ona West Side street. Why a fish market she could not have said.