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    Passing
    Passing
    Passing
    Ebook136 pages3 hours

    Passing

    By Nella Larsen and Matthew Hodgson

    4/5

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    About this ebook

    Nella Larsen’s 1929 novella follows friends Irene Redfield and Clare Kendry, two black women who pass as white. Their anxieties about passing culminate in tragedy, revealing the powerful repercussions of hiding one’s identity. Nearly a century later, Larsen’s exploration of race remains urgent and relevant as ever.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherChemeketa Press
    Release dateJan 1, 2021
    ISBN9781943536788

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    Reviews for Passing

    4/5

    579 ratings43 reviews

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    • 4/5
      Two light-skin mixed-race friends grow up to be in two different situations. Irene Redfield decides to marry a Black man and remain in the world she was born into. Clare Kendra decides to marry a white man, "pass" as white and live in the "white" world until she accidentally runs into her old friend and experiences Irene's world. Enjoyed the book and learned about the phenomenon of passing.
    • 2/5
      Set (and published) in the 1920s, Clare and Irene were friends and ran into each other after they hadn’t seen each other in a long time. Beyond this, I had to read the summary on GR to get an idea of what was going on. They are both black women and one of them (I can’t remember which) was passing for white. Apparently (based on the summary I read), the one passing is married to a racist man who doesn’t know she is actually black.

      I listened to the audio and obviously, wasn’t paying close enough attention to even know what was happening in the book. It didn’t (obviously) hold my interest at all.
    • 4/5
      It is not clear how Clare died. She might have fallen or been pushed by Irene. The possibility of it being the latter is astounding. What lies in human hearts? Can jealousy cause someone to kill? (Irene had thought that something was going on between her husband and Clare.)
    • 4/5
      This rather slim book packs a punch. Read The Vanishing Half awhile ago which made me think deeper about the act of "passing" and how that would play out through a persons life. Highly recommend both books
    • 5/5
      I am simply in awe of this writing talent. A short read, yet brimming with detail and nuance. Timeless and brilliant.
    • 3/5
      For Harlem Renaissance, but a good and earth-shattering read. Irene's mind was expressed flawlessly.
    • 4/5
      2022 pandemic read. Wow. The story of Nella Larsen, herself, is equally fascinating.
    • 4/5
      I found the women to be silly and so wrapped up in themselves playing a dangerous game that it almost hurt to finish it.
    • 5/5
      I don't know why, every time I read a book published decades before I was born, I continue to be astonished at how great and "readable" it is. Maybe it's lingering self-doubt from having to read and comprehend Shakespeare at a breakneck pace in high school. Whatever it is, it's a shame because it keeps me from experiencing books like Passing. This slight novel turned out to be much more than I anticipated. It had been a while since I had read a synopsis, and I am so thankful because the dark twist caught me off-guard. This is a haunting book and reads nearly like it was written today. I would have gladly swapped it for Shakespeare.
    • 4/5
      Quick, tightly written piece that reminded me of Katherine Mansfield, with a well-rendered mix of interior struggles, interpersonal cruelty, and a thoughtful exploration of the intricacies of racial identity in America. A breezy read that is never unengaging, though the ending wraps up in a sort of pat and typical fashion that is neither satisfying nor surprising. I'm am surprised that I never read this in high school or college (read a good share of Harlem Renaissance literature), I'm glad to see it is getting some well-deserved attention recently. I listened to the Tessa Thompson-read audiobook and her delivery was expert and nuanced.
    • 3/5
      Interesting subject i never thought about. Good writing. Surprising ending.
    • 4/5
      3.5 stars but rounded up. The ending! Really the whole journey... but that ending!!! I read The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett right before this — they were an interesting pair together.
    • 5/5
      This short classic, set in New York City, was originally published in 1929 during the Harlem Renaissance. It examined the phenomenon of “passing” – a black person acting as a white person. Of course, the American context has changed significantly since 1929. The concept of race is now, thankfully, widely considered a social construct, without any biological merit. The concept of passing, though still present on occasion, is less of an issue.

      Nonetheless, Larsen gives us insight into how a culture obsessed with race, as early twentieth-century America was, can sometimes devolve into strange scenarios. In this particular scenario, Irene Redfield lives a comfortable life in Harlem with her physician-husband and children. Notably, she has light skin, but lives as an African American. She becomes reacquainted with a childhood friend Claire Bellew/Kendry. Claire, likewise, has light skin, but effectively “passes” as a white woman with a white husband. Even Claire’s husband does not know of her black lineage.

      By resuming a loose friendship with Irene, Claire realizes a spiritual longing for the black community in Harlem. Perhaps this is innate, due to her upbringing; perhaps this stems from living some kind of inauthentic existence. Nonetheless, Claire begins to spend time secretly with Irene whenever Claire’s husband is out of town on business. The husband, however, is openly racist and routinely uses the n-word. The obvious instability in this scenario ends up playing out in a shocking manner.

      In a post-George Floyd era, this book addresses timely issues such as how race affects how we interact in the world. Race in 1920s America is different than race in the 2020s, granted, but we aren’t so far as to be fully colorblind. To cite Cornel West, race still matters. Thus, contemporary readers should not treat this classic as a mere relic of the past.

      Should people be made to feel ashamed of their race? Is it all about how one presents one’s self? What role does authenticity have to play with the construct of race? This book’s style is easily accessible by many, even youth (though it does contain the n-word). At around 150 pages, it doesn’t take long to read either. In perusing it, perhaps we will find out that the world of the 1920s isn’t all that much different from today’s inequities.
    • 4/5
      Passing is largely set in Harlem, but it begins with a chance meeting between two childhood friends from Chicago, Irene Redfield, a light skinned African American woman who married to a Black physician and is living in upper class Harlem society, and Clare Kendry, who is also light skinned, but decided to pass for White, marry an overt racist, Jack Bellew, and remain in Chicago. Clare recognizes Irene after she escapes the summer heat by going to a rooftop restaurant in Chicago during a visit to the city, and they re-establish ties. The two are able to pass for White, and when Clare's husband joins them his vicious denigration of Blacks, and Clare's acceptance of his remarks, deeply offends Irene, who vows to have nothing further to do with Clare. Clare, however, is both manipulative and persistent, and since she wishes to surreptitiously see Irene again and re-enter Black society, she manages to convince Irene to invite her to social events in Harlem, which her husband Jack is unaware of.

      The relationship between the two women strengthens, despite Irene's disapproval of Clare's passing as White, but it ultimately puts a strain on Irene's marriage, and on Clare's, as her standing and financial stability is dependent on keeping her racist husband in the dark about her true heritage, as she spends ever more time in the company of her newfound Black friends.

      Passing, which was the inspiration for a critically acclaimed film produced and directed by Rebecca Hall in 2021 that is currently available for viewing on Netflix, was a revealing look into the lives of mixed race African Americans in the 1920s, both those who identified as Black and suffered from racial prejudice and lack of equal educational, job and housing opportunities, and those who crossed over the White world and enjoyed its benefits, as long as their true heritage remained a secret. The novel was undoubtedly more powerful and groundbreaking after its release in 1929 than it is currently, but it is still an important and relevant work, and a well written and compelling book.
    • 4/5
      When light skinned Irene Redfield meets her childhood friend, Clare, by chane in Chicago, she discovers that her old friend has been passing for white and is married to a racist.

      Irene is shocked,, but puts the incident out of her mind when she returns home to Harlem and her prominent physician husband. But then Clare shows up in New York and Irene finds herself increasingly entangled in Clare’s deception until all of Clare’s lies have a tragic end.
    • 4/5
      “It’s funny about ‘passing.’ We disapprove of it and at the same time condone it. It excites our contempt and yet we rather admire it. We shy away from it with an odd kind of revulsion, but we protect it.”

      This slim, beautifully written novel is about two women living in New York City in the 1920s. They were childhood friends together. One, Irene Redfield, is a black woman living an affluent life with her husband and children. The second is Clare Kendry, also a black woman but “passing” as a white woman. To complicate matters, her white husband is a stone-cold racist. This book was written in 1929 but I had never heard of it until recently. I am glad it landed on my radar. A little gem, that speaks volumes.
    • 5/5
      This is an amazing book, a novella written with such concise, perfect prose, it's a shame to have it over so quickly. I was immediately drawn into the story and its characters.

      I read this in a day and a half, torn between wanting to find out how it ends and wanting it to last. I'm going to be reading this again. Probably more than once. There's so much to unpack - about race, identify, choices - I feel the need for a discussion group, which rarely happens. But this amazing book deserves it. Nella Larsen writes powerfully, and is worth diving into deeply.
    • 4/5
      This classic of African-American literature is set in the 1920s and explores the practical and emotional ramifications when a pair of black women meet by chance after many years and one discovers that the other has been passing as white ever since she disappeared from the neighborhood where they grew up.

      For Irene, who narrates the story, her childhood friend Clare's choice to pretend to be white raises complicated feelings within her. On the one hand, she herself has been known to occasionally present as white in situations where she would not be welcome as a black woman — certain restaurants or businesses, for example. On the other hand, she is proud to be black, and having married a black doctor and living a comfortable life in the Harlem Renaissance community in New York City, spends much of her time working to raise money to help disadvantaged fellow black Americans. She can't help viewing Clare's passing as a repudiation of the pride 'Rene feels about being black.

      Despite Irene's disapproval of Clare's life (and the fact that Clare's husband is an unrepentant racist who has no idea his wife is not white) she can't help feeling a begrudging admiration and liking for Clare. There are hints that there may even be some sexual tension between them, although this 1929 book does not explore the topic beyond slight hints and suggestions that may be my 21st century brain imposing current cultural norms on the past.

      This is an exceedingly short book — really more of a novella than a novel — and that was a source of some frustration to me. It felt that we never got to the real heart of how and why Clare chose to live her life the way she did. That feeling was compounded by the ambiguous and somewhat abrupt-seeming ending, which I am still unsure of even now. None of that should deter a reader who is interested in exploring the realities of race in 1920s America, though. Short as it is, [Passing] packs a punch and is well worth spending time with, however brief.
    • 5/5
      This 1929 novel is about two Black women, one who is “passing” as a white woman. Though the book isn’t long, it packs a powerful punch. The drama is taut and it’s shockingly relevant. It touches on issues of class, gender, and obviously race.

      I’m sure this story must have inspired The Vanishing Half in some ways. There were a lot of similarities, but this was written almost a century before! A must read!
    • 4/5
      This was an audiobook listen of only about 4 hours but I kept having to repeat passages because a later reference made me think I hadn't understood. That's not necessarily a bad thing but it did mean it took me quite a while to finish this. The narrator was Robin Miles who did a good job.

      This book was published in 1929 and is one of only two books that Nella Larson wrote. Larson was of mixed racial heritage and she celebrated her Negro (as she referred to herself) status but it was apparently quite common for light-skinned African Americans to try to pass as white at that time. This book tells the story of two light-skinned women who took different paths once they had grown up. Irene Redfield and Clare Kendry had both grown up in the same neighbourhood in Chicago but lost track of each other when Clare's father died and she went to live with two white aunts. Clare passed as white and married a wealthy white man who did not know that Clare was partially black. Irene married a black man and went to live in Harlem with him where they mingled with both white and black people. On a visit back to Chicago Irene and Clare ran into each other. Clare and her husband mostly lived in Europe where she rarely met other Negroes. Clare invited Irene for tea at her hotel and while there Irene met Clare's husband, John Bellew. Bellew calls Clare Nig (short for the racial epithet for African Americans) because he says she is so dark but he really has no idea of her racial heritage. Irene is horrified by his racist views and vows to have no more to do with Clare. However, Clare contacts Irene when the couple come to stay in New York for a number of months. Her husband is often away on business trips and Clare has decided she wants to have more contact with Negroes. Soon Clare is a frequent visitor in Irene's house and it seems that Irene's husband and Clare may be having an affair. Irene hopes to just ignore this and wait until Clare and her husband move back to Europe but tragedy strikes before that can happen.

      As an examination of the pressures black people faced in the US this opened my eyes. I hadn't really considered how many light-skinned mixed race people there were but of course, it is well known that white slave owners often had sexual relationships with their black slaves and, over time, that would result in light skin for some. I also hadn't considered how some people would find it desirable to pass as white in order to work, marry, and go about in white society. Clare talks of how anxious she was when she was pregnant that her child would be dark coloured and her decision to only have the one child. That must have been very stressful. This is one of those books that make you wonder what you would have done in the same circumstances. I can't really say if I would reveal my mixed race or if I would try to pass as well.
    • 4/5
      This novella was written in 1929 by Black author Nella Larsen, who was part of the Harlem Renaissance. It is a complex look at racial identity in the 1920s. The title refers to the idea of Black women "passing" in society as white women. First off, we need to realize that at this time in America, any amount of black heritage made you Black, or Negro, which was the common term at the time.

      The novella focuses on two women who both could pass for white. One is Irene, who identifies as Black, is married to a Black man, and part of her Black community. She does, however, "take advantage" of her appearance sometimes. In the opening scene, she is visiting her hometown Chicago on a hot summer day. She feels faint and a taxi driver, presumably white, rescues her and takes her to a restaurant to get a glass of tea. We can also presume that she would not be allowed in this restaurant if she wasn't "passing" for white. There she meets a childhood friend, Clare, who is passing as white as well. Clare, however, has married a white man without telling him of her heritage. Clare misses her Black community though, and pushes Irene to reintroduce her to this society with disastrous consequences.

      This brief novel is an interesting look at race in the 1920s. It was uncomfortable for me to read. Much has changed in the past 100 years, but obviously not enough. I've certainly never read a book that so honestly addressed this single issue. I would say that I enjoyed Larsen's [Quicksand] more than this, but this is an important book about race in the U.S. and I definitely recommend it.

      Original publication date: 1929
      Author’s nationality: American
      Original language: English
      Length: 94 pages
      Rating: 3.5 stars
      Format/where I acquired the book: kindle
      Why I read this: 1001 books group read
    • 4/5
      Intriguing Portraits in Passing
      Review of the Penguin Vitae hardcover edition (2017) of the 1929 original.

      Nella Larsen (1891-1964) was a Harlem Renaissance author who published only two novels, Quicksand (1928) and Passing (1929) before she completely disassociated from writing and spent the rest of her life working as a nurse. This superb new edition from Penguin Vitae includes a thorough 30 page introduction by Emily Bernard and 8 pages of excellent Explanatory Notes by Thaddeus M. Davis.

      Passing is somewhat of a cat and mouse intrigue between two light-skinned African American women. Clare Kendry is passing for white, even though she is married to a virulently racist White American. Irene Redfield, although she could have passed, has stuck by her African American heritage and community. Kendry now regrets what she has left behind and begins to insinuate herself back into Redfield's life after a chance re-meeting (they had known each other as children) with eventual tragic consequences.

      I read Passing as part of my subscription to the inaugural 2020 Shakespeare and Company Lost Treasures curated selection. 4 books of the expected 12 have been delivered as of March 2020.
    • 4/5
      One of the great things about reading from the 1,001 Books to Read Before You Die List is that I have been introduced to many writers that I had not experienced before. Such is the case with Passing by Nella Larsen. This is the story of two American women in the 1920s with a similar background who chose very different ways to live.

      Both women are very light skinned black women and while Irene is a respected member of the Black community, married to a black doctor and allowing herself to “pass” for white only occasionally, Clare actually lives the life of a white woman, completely denying her black heritage and even hiding her race from her rich, white and bigoted husband. But Clare seemingly desires some contact with the black community and latches onto Irene in order to attend various black social functions. Irene has mixed feelings about Clare, she doesn’t approve of her life choices yet she does her best to protect her secret. Her feelings become even more challenged when she realizes that her husband and Clare are having an affair.

      I found Passing to be a very interesting story. Nella Larsen herself was of mixed heritage, her mother was Danish and her father a black American. Racial segregation laws were in force until the 1960s and some light-skinned blacks used “passing” in order to obtain equal opportunities and rights, social standing and acceptance. It is unfortunate that Nella Larsen only wrote one other book, but I will be reading that in the near future.
    • 5/5
      Irene Redfield is doing some shopping while on a trip to Chicago, when she stops for a brief rest and some tea at an elegant hotel’s restaurant. She notices a woman at a nearby table keeps staring at her and she’s immediately concerned. Could the woman have somehow discerned that Irene is not white, but a Negro?

      Larsen was part of the Harlem Renaissance and this book is a marvel of social commentary. In this slim volume Larsen explores issues of black/white identity, of the desire to get ahead and the societal obstacles to that path, of male/female relationships, and female-female rivalries. There is tension, fear, anger, joy, desire and hope. We get a wonderful glimpse of middle-class Black culture in 1920s Harlem. And that ending!

      My F2F book club had a stimulating discussion.

      A word of caution re the introduction: Definitely read the introduction, which will give you much insight into the book, the author’s background, and the critical thoughts of various experts. BUT … read the book FIRST, as the introduction will contain major spoilers for what happens in the novel.
    • 4/5
      Written in 1929 during the Harlem Renaissance, Passing by Nella Larsen tells the story of two biracial and light-skinned black women who can pass as white. One, Clare, has married a racist white man who is completely unaware of her past and her identity. Irene, the other, has married a black physician and has no real wish to pass. However when she is tired after a shopping trip, she stops for tea at a whites only tea room where the two women encounter each other. They had grown up in the same neighbourhood but haven’t seen each other since childhood until this meeting. The encounter will lead to unexpected and eventually tragic consequences for both women.

      Passing is a very short book that packs a huge wallop. It is an intriguing, surprisingly suspenseful, and very insightful book about racial identity and attitudes that still resonates today. There is also an exploration of the tensions that develop between women, between the sexes, and between classes. Irene acts as narrator albeit an untrustworthy one adding a layer of ambiguity to the story and this ambiguity is nowhere more evident than at the end, one that was completely unexpected at least by me. This is not an easy or even a comfortable read but it is an important one and I recommend it highly.

      Thanks to Edelweiss+ and Restless Books for the opportunity to read this book in exchange for an honest review
    • 4/5
      The number of commas renders some of the sentences stilted, so the writing is a bit off-putting. The characters of Irene and Clare, two mixed-race women who pass for different reasons and once childhood acquaintances, meet as adults. One selfish and self-centered, heedless of the harm she causes, the other self-sacrificing and jealous and only too aware of "doing the right thing." An unreliable narrator and the question of passing drives the story, but the personalities of the two women, so different but the same creates the tension and the ambiguous end.
    • 4/5
      I've gotten to the point in my reading life where I can frequently predict what's going to happen in a book. Whether it's a result of reading so voraciously for so many years or from my knowledge of story structure, themes or being able to interpret subtext and recognize foreshadowing, I'm not sure. Of course, I'm not always right, but my batting average is pretty darn good. That's why books that surprise me in some what always end up as favorites. The ending of Passing surprised me, though it probably shouldn't have.

      Larsen pulls off a neat trick by making the reader believe this book is about blacks passing as whites and the pull black culture retains over those who "pass." It is a thematic red herring. What this book is really about is one woman's determination to preserve her way of life, social standing and family. Irene is a wonderfully complex character who was alternately sympathetic and a little scary in her single-minded pursuit of her own will.

      Great book. Recommended.
    • 4/5
      Got totally caught up in the central conflict, was not expecting the resolution.

      The intro in the Penguin Classics edition was so bad, full of spoilers and academese, that I put it down for six years before restarting it.
    • 4/5
      Great book, quick read. Passing is the story of two women who are black and grew up as childhood friends in Chicago. It was published in 1929 and is set in Harlem Renaissance period, a period covering from 1918 to 1930 and is a time period of black culture/art. It did not just occur in Harlem New York but that might be the largest setting. This is a story of race and choices. One girl chose to escape her culture and married a white man and did not tell him. The other girl, Irene, married within her race and it is her story as well. There is a third choice but that girl only has a small part in the book. She married white but he knew she was black. That is just one layer of this great book.

      Passing is not the first book to be written about Passing; not the first book to examine Passing, The Autobiography of an Ex-Colored Man,The Tragedy of Pudd'nhead Wilson, The Father of Désirée's Baby, The Garies and Their Friends but this book does offer a inventive approach and fresh ideas to the topic, showing how even though one married black and lived as black she was still creating her own fiction.

      The story is great with an interesting conclusion. I guess I didn't see that coming but when it was done, I also was not surprised. And the ending remains ambiguous, IMO. The characters are great. It is highly readable.

      Achievement: 1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die (2006/2008/2010/2012 Edition), Guardian 1000 (State of the nation), 500 Great Books by Women (Choices), David Bowie's Top 100 (1929).

      The book is told from Irene's POV and some is her stream of conscious and some her interactions.
    • 4/5
      Nella Larsen’s use of color in “Passing” is apropos since it’s a story about different women who can racially pass as white and the attendant problems of identity within different social circles. It’s also the first time the two main characters have met in years. The idea of passing could also refer to marital infidelity or transitory relationships or, simply, the brief glimpse a person may get of themselves —that moment of stark lucidity before the mirror. There’s a lot going on here. But the author’s use of color is as beautiful, original and evocative as it is pervasive.

      “Brilliant red patches flamed in Irene Redfield’s warm olive cheeks.”

      “A waiter passed her, followed by a sweetly scented woman in a fluttering dress of green chiffon whose mingled pattern of narcissuses, jonquils, and hyacinths was a reminder of pleasantly chill spring days.”

      “Irene watched her spread out her napkin, saw the silver spoon in the white hand slit the dull gold of the melon.”

      “Entering, Irene found herself in a sitting room, large and high, at whose windows hung startling blue draperies which triumphantly dragged attention from the gloomy chocolate-colored furniture. And Clare was wearing a thin floating dress of the same shade of blue, which suited her and the rather difficult room to perfection.”

      “A pale rose color came into Clare’s ivory cheeks.”

      “Clare, exquisite, golden, fragrant, in a stately gown of shining black taffeta, whose long, full skirt lay in graceful folds about her slim golden feet; her glistening hair drawn smoothly back into a small twist at the nape of her neck; her eyes sparkling like dark jewels. Irene, with her new rose-colored chiffon frock ending at the knees, and her cropped curls, felt dowdy and commonplace.”

      “Clare fair and golden, like a sunlit day. Hazelton dark, with gleaming eyes, like a moonlit night.”

      “Irene couldn’t remember ever having seen her look better. She was wearing a superlatively simple cinnamon-brown frock which brought out all her vivid beauty, and a little golden bowl of a hat. Around her neck hung a string of amber beads that would easily have made six or eight like one Irene owned. Yes, she was stunning.”

      “The day was an exceptionally cold one, with a strong wind that had whipped a dusky red into Felise’s smooth golden cheeks and driven moisture into Irene’s soft brown eyes.”

      OK, so I know that’s a lot to drop in an FB post, but that’s the power color has in this book. It’s a cumulative power. And all that paint builds up like impasto and makes you aware of each individual line in the brush strokes. The pain, the jealousy, the struggles, the frustration, the awe, the heartbreak—it’s all in there. Layers upon layers of gorgeously tormented meetings in the passing between humans. From race to race, sex to sex, social class to class, we all leave our thick lines in the paint. Will it compliment or contrast our idea of our own existence when we see it—when we happen upon that glimpse in the passing?

      “Her whole body went taut. In that second she saw that she could bear anything, but only if no one knew that she had anything to bear. It hurt. It frightened her, but she could bear it.”

      Goddamnit, Nella Larsen. You wrote a book that will have a far greater effect on me than the title would otherwise suggest.

    Book preview

    Passing - Nella Larsen

    Part One

    Encounter

    One

    It was the last letter in Irene Redfield’s little pile of morning mail. After her other ordinary and clearly directed letters the long envelope of thin Italian paper with its almost illegible scrawl seemed out of place and alien. And there was, too, something mysterious and slightly furtive about it. A thin sly thing which bore no return address to betray the sender. Not that she hadn’t immediately known who its sender was. Some two years ago she had one very like it in outward appearance. Furtive, but yet in some peculiar, determined way a little flaunting. Purple ink. Foreign paper of extraordinary size.

    It had been, Irene noted, postmarked in New York the day before. Her brows came together in a tiny frown. The frown, however, was more from perplexity than from annoyance; though there was in her thoughts an element of both. She was wholly unable to comprehend such an attitude towards danger as she was sure the letter’s contents would reveal; and she disliked the idea of opening and reading it.

    This, she reflected, was of a piece with all that she knew of Clare Kendry. Stepping always on the edge of danger. Always aware, but not drawing back or turning aside. Certainly not because of any alarms or feeling of outrage on the part of others.

    And for a swift moment Irene Redfield seemed to see a pale small girl sitting on a ragged blue sofa, sewing pieces of bright red cloth together, while her drunken father, a tall, powerfully built man, raged threateningly up and down the shabby room, bellowing curses and making spasmodic lunges at her which were not the less frightening because they were, for the most part. Ineffectual. Sometimes he did manage to reach her. But only the fact that the child had edged herself and her poor sewing over to the farthermost corner of the sofa suggested that she was in any way perturbed by this menace to herself and her work.

    Clare had known well enough that it was unsafe to take a portion of the dollar that was her weekly wage for the doing of many errands for the dressmaker who lived on the top floor of the building of which Bob Kendry was janitor. But that knowledge had not deterred her. She wanted to go to her Sunday school’s picnic, and she had made up her mind to wear a new dress. So, in spite of certain unpleasantness and possible danger, she had taken the money to buy the material for that pathetic little red frock.

    There had been, even in those days, nothing sacrificial in Clare Kendry’s idea of life, no allegiance beyond her own Immediate desire. She was selfish, and cold, and hard. And yet she had, too, a strange capacity of transforming warmth and passion, verging sometimes almost on theatrical heroics.

    Irene, who was a year or more older than Clare, remembered the day that Bob Kendry had been brought home dead, killed in a silly saloon fight. Clare, who was at that time a scant fifteen years old, had just stood there with her lips pressed together, her thin arms folded across her narrow chest, staring down at the familiar pasty-white face of her parent with a sort of disdain in her slanting black eyes. For a very long time she had stood like that, silent and staring. Then, quite suddenly, she had given way to a torrent of weeping, swaying her thin body, tearing at her bright hair, and stamping her small feet. The outburst had ceased as suddenly as it had begun. She glanced quickly about the bare room, taking everyone in, even the two policemen, in a sharp look of flashing scorn. And, in the next instant, she had turned and vanished through the door.

    Seen across the long stretch of years, the thing had more the appearance of an outpouring of pent-up fury than of an overflow of grief for her dead father; though she had been, Irene admitted, fond enough of him in her own rather catlike way.

    Catlike. Certainly that was the word which best described Clare Kendry, if any single word could describe her. Sometimes she was hard and apparently without feeling at all; sometimes she was affectionate and rashly impulsive. And there was about her an amazing soft malice, hidden well away until provoked. Then she was capable of scratching, and very effectively too. Or, driven to anger, she would fight with a ferocity and impetuousness that disregarded or forgot any danger; superior strength, numbers, or other unfavourable circumstances. How savagely she had clawed those boys the day they had hooted her parent and sung a derisive rhyme, of their own composing, which pointed out certain eccentricities in his careening gait! And how deliberately she had—

    Irene brought her thoughts back to the present, to the letter from Clare Kendry that she still held unopened in her hand. With a little feeling of apprehension, she very slowly cut the envelope, drew out the folded sheets, spread them, and began to read.

    It was, she saw at once, what she had expected since learning from the postmark that Clare was in the city. An extravagantly phrased wish to see her again. Well, she needn’t and wouldn’t, Irene told herself, accede to that. Nor would she assist Clare to realize her foolish desire to return for a moment to that life which long ago, and of her own choice, she had left behind her.

    She ran through the letter, puzzling out, as best she could, the carelessly formed words or making instinctive guesses at them.

    … For I am lonely, so lonely … cannot help longing to be with you again, as I have never longed for anything before; and I have wanted many things in my life…. You can’t know how in this pale life of mine I am all the time seeing the bright pictures of that other that I once thought I was glad to be free of…. It’s like an ache, a pain that never ceases…. Sheets upon thin sheets of it. And ending finally with, and it’s your fault, ’Rene dear. At least partly. For I wouldn’t now, perhaps, have this terrible, this wild desire if I hadn’t seen you that time in Chicago….

    Brilliant red patches flamed in Irene Redfield’s warm olive cheeks.

    That time in Chicago. The words stood out from among the many paragraphs of other words, bringing with them a clear, sharp remembrance, in which even now, after two years, humiliation, resentment, and rage were mingled.

    Two

    This is what Irene Redfield remembered.

    Chicago. August. A brilliant day, hot, with a brutal staring sun pouring down rays that were like molten rain. A day on which the very outlines of the buildings shuddered as if in protest at the heat. Quivering lines sprang up from baked pavements and wriggled along the shining car tracks. The automobiles parked at the kerbs were a dancing blaze, and the glass of the shop windows threw out a blinding radiance. Sharp particles of dust rose from the burning sidewalks, stinging the seared or dripping skins of wilting pedestrians. What small breeze there was seemed like the breath of a flame fanned by slow bellows.

    It was on that day of all others that Irene set out to shop for the things which she had promised to take home from Chicago to her two small sons, Brian junior and Theodore. Characteristically, she had put it off until only a few crowded days remained of her long visit. And only this sweltering one was free of engagements till the evening.

    Without too much trouble she had got the mechanical aeroplane for Junior. But the drawing book, for which Ted had so gravely and insistently given her precise directions, had sent her in and out of five shops without success.

    It was while she was on her way to a sixth place that right before her smarting eyes a man toppled over and became an inert crumpled heap on the scorching cement. About the lifeless figure a little crowd gathered. Was the man dead, or only faint? someone asked her. But Irene didn’t know and didn’t try to discover. She edged her way out of the increasing crowd, feeling disagreeably damp and sticky and soiled from contact with so many sweating bodies.

    For a moment she stood fanning herself and dabbing at her moist face with an inadequate scrap of handkerchief. Suddenly she was aware that the whole street had a wobbly look, and realized that she was about to faint. With a quick perception of the need for immediate safety, she lifted a wavering hand in the direction of a cab parked directly in front of her. The perspiring driver jumped out and guided her to his car. He helped, almost lifted her in. She sank down on the hot leather seat.

    For a minute her thoughts were nebulous. They cleared.

    I guess, she told her Samaritan, It’s tea I need. On a roof somewhere.

    The Drayton, ma’am? he suggested. They do say as how it’s always a breeze up there.

    Thank you. I think the Drayton’ll do nicely, she told him.

    There was that little grating sound of the clutch being slipped in as the man put the car in gear and slid deftly out into the boiling traffic. Reviving under the warm breeze stirred up by the moving cab, Irene made some small attempts to repair the damage that the heat and crowds had done to her appearance.

    All too soon the rattling vehicle shot towards the sidewalk and stood still. The driver sprang out and opened the door before the hotel’s decorated attendant could reach it. She got out, and thanking him smilingly as well as in a more substantial manner for his kind helpfulness and understanding, went in through the Drayton’s wide doors.

    Stepping out of the elevator that had brought her to the roof, she was led to a table just in front of a long window whose gently moving curtains suggested a cool breeze. It was, she thought, like being wafted upward on a magic carpet to another world, pleasant, quiet, and strangely remote from the sizzling one that she had left below.

    The tea, when it came, was all that she had desired and expected. In fact, so much was it what she had desired and expected that after the first deep cooling drink she was able to forget it, only now and then sipping, a little absently, from the tall green glass, while she surveyed the room about her or looked out over some lower buildings at the bright unstirred blue of the lake reaching away to an undetected horizon.

    She had been gazing down for some

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