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Woman's home companion
Vol. LXIV, No. 6 (1937)

Norris, Kathleen
You can't have everything - part III,   pp. 17-20 PDF (2.4 MB)


Page 17

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He wanted her complete attention and
was rarely willing to include anyone else
4,
UNHAPPY because of her husband's growing in-
difference, Mary Campbell Sylvester tries to fill
her life by devoting every moment to her two little
daughters. Gratifying in many ways, this does not
completely satisfy her-as she realizes after she meets
John Kilgarif. He follows Cam and the little girls to
Lake Tahoe, where the Sylvesters have a summer cot-
tage. Happy days are filled with idyllic companion-
ship. The wound caused by Bob's lack of interest in
his wife becomes less painful as Cam's and John's
friendship deepens.
In September Cam returns to the gloomy Sylvester
house in San Francisco; Bob is nearly always away on
business trips, on golf and yachting expeditions.
John continues to see her but it is not until spring that
Cam is reconciled to the idea of a divorce. Sullen at
first, Bob capitulates and Cam's parting from him is
friendly, even a little sad, as they both realize how
completely dead is the feeling they once shared.
Cam's only qualms are over impressive documents
regarding her children who are to stay with their
father at stipulated intervals. She visits John's
family just before their marriage. His little boy, affec-
tionately known as Taffy, is in complete charge of
Toomey, his nurse, and her resentment of any inter-
ference is so obvious that Cam tells herself she must
deal with this situation later. John feels completely
confident in leaving Taffy with the nurse while he and
Cam are away. But at the thought of leaving Jane and
Joanna, still almost babies, Cam for a moment forgets
John and their new life in the sudden pain that engulfs
her.
A THEY drove into a lovers' heaven of autumn
r beauty. The twinkling new car went on and on
tip the wide highway, came out on level roads beside
the sea, turned back to mount twisting grades under
solemn miles and miles of redwoods.
The exquisite shortening days of the year flew by,
finding them only deeper and deeper in the happiness
that seemed to have no limits and no measure. When
they went for an early morning ride and Cam came
back with John to the hotel, he told her that no man in
the world had ever had a companion like her. When
Copyright, 1937, by Kathleen Norris
they took their fishing rods and a basket of lunch tip
into the autumn woods and sat dreamily silent beside a
stream, listening to the plop of trout and the quiet
swirling of the sleepy currents, the harmony between
them was so perfect that perhaps for an hour neither
would disturb it by a single syllable. And in the eve-
ning hours when, bundled tIp warmly against the chill
of a Canadian October, they sat on some lodge porch
watching the moon rise and the stars come out, going
up at last to the warmth and sanctity of the room
that was their room, helping each other kindle the
wood fire and draw the curtains, wandering about,
talking by its kindly light, the love that had glorified
all their hours was with them still, and at its holiest
time.
The first snows found them in Montreal, each day
an adventure, each meal welcome, each museum or
curiosity that they could find to explore an untiring
interest.
Coming down through the New England towns
they brought the winter with them; snows were al-
ready deep in Connecticut; New York, seen by Cam
from the high warm bedroom of the great hotel,
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