K (Chapter 5, page 1 of 10)

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Chapter 5

Sidney and K. Le Moyne sat under a tree and talked. In Sidney's lap lay a
small pasteboard box, punched with many holes. It was the day of releasing
Reginald, but she had not yet been able to bring herself to the point of
separation. Now and then a furry nose protruded from one of the apertures
and sniffed the welcome scent of pine and buttonball, red and white clover,
the thousand spicy odors of field and woodland.

"And so," said K. Le Moyne, "you liked it all? It didn't startle you?"

"Well, in one way, of course--you see, I didn't know it was quite like
that: all order and peace and quiet, and white beds and whispers, on
top,--you know what I mean,--and the misery there just the same. Have you
ever gone through a hospital?"

K. Le Moyne was stretched out on the grass, his arms under his head. For
this excursion to the end of the street-car line he had donned a pair of
white flannel trousers and a belted Norfolk coat. Sidney had been divided
between pride in his appearance and fear that the Street would deem him

At her question he closed his eyes, shutting out the peaceful arch and the
bit of blue heaven overhead. He did not reply at once.

"Good gracious, I believe he's asleep!" said Sidney to the pasteboard box.

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