Book V: Chapter V

by Sherwood Anderson

　　Edith Carson was six years older than McGregor and lived entirelywithin herself. Hers was one of those natures that do not expressthemselves in words. Although at his coming into the shop her heartbeat high no colour came to her cheeks and her pale eyes did not flashback into his a message. Day after day she sat in her shop at work,quiet, strong in her own kind of faith, ready to give her money, herreputation, and if need be her life to the working out of her owndream of womanhood. She did not see in McGregor the making of a man ofgenius as did Margaret and did not hope to express through him asecret desire for power. She was a working woman and to her herepresented all men. In her secret heart she thought of him merely asthe man--her man.

　　And to McGregor Edith was companion and friend. He saw her sittingyear after year in her shop, putting money into the savings bank,keeping a cheerful front before the world, never assertive, kindly, inher own way sure of herself. "We could go on forever as we are now andshe be none the less pleased," he told himself.

　　One afternoon after a particularly hard week of work he went out toher place to sit in her little workroom and think out the matter ofmarrying Margaret Ormsby. It was a quiet season in Edith's trade andshe was alone in the shop serving a customer. McGregor lay down uponthe little couch in the workroom. For a week he had been speaking togatherings of workmen night after night and later had sat in his ownroom thinking of Margaret. Now on the couch with the murmur of voicesin his ears he fell asleep.

　　When he awoke it was late in the night and on the floor by the side ofthe couch sat Edith with her ringers in his hair.

　　McGregor opened his eyes quietly and looked at her. He could see atear running down her cheek. She was staring straight ahead at thewall of the room and by the dim light that came through a window hecould see the drawn cords of her little neck and the knot of mousecoloured hair on her head.

　　McGregor closed his eyes quickly. He felt like one who has beenaroused out of sleep by a dash of cold water across his breast. Itcame over him with a rush that Edith Carson had been expectingsomething from him--something he was not prepared to give.

　　She got up after a time and crept quietly away into the shop and witha great clatter and bustle he arose also and began calling loudly. Hedemanded the time and complained about a missed appointment. Turningup the gas, Edith walked with him to the door. On her face sat the oldplacid smile. McGregor hurried away into the darkness and spent therest of the night walking in the streets.

　　The next day he went to Margaret Ormsby at the settlement house. Withher he used no art. Driving straight to the point he told her of theundertaker's daughter sitting beside him on the eminence above CoalCreek, of the barber and his talk of women on the park bench and howthat had led him to that other woman kneeling on the floor in thelittle frame house, his fists in her hair and of Edith Carson whosecompanionship had saved him from all of these.

　　"If you can't hear all of this and still want life with me," he said,"there is no future for us together. I want you. I'm afraid of you andafraid of my love for you but still I want you. I've been seeing yourface floating above the audiences in the halls where I've been atwork. I've looked at babies in the arms of workingmen's wives andwanted to see my babe in your arms. I care more for what I am doingthan I do for you but I love you."

　　McGregor arose and stood over her. "I love you with my arms aching toclose about you, with my brain planning the triumph of the workers,with all of the old perplexing human love that I had almost thought Iwould never want.

　　"I can't bear this waiting. I can't bear this not knowing so that Ican tell Edith. I can't have my mind filled with the need of you justas men are beginning to catch the infection of an idea and are lookingto me for clear-headed leadership. Take me or let me go and live mylife."

　　Margaret Ormsby looked at McGregor. When she spoke her voice was asquiet as the voice of her father telling a workman in the shop what todo with a broken machine.

　　"I am going to marry you," she said simply. "I am full of the thoughtof it. I want you, want you so blindly that I think you can'tunderstand."

　　She stood up facing him and looked into his eyes.

　　"You must wait," she said. "I must see Edith, I myself must do that.All these years she has served you--she has had that privilege."

　　McGregor looked across the table into the beautiful eyes of the womanhe loved.

　　"You belong to me even if I do belong to Edith," he said.

　　"I will see Edith," Margaret answered again.