When we came out to start back up the road our track was filled in by the snow. There were only faint indentations where the holes had been. The snow blew in our faces so we could hardly see. We brushed off and went in to have lunch. Mr. Guttingen served the lunch.
“Tomorrow there will be skiing,” he said. “Do you ski, Mr. Henry?”
“No. But I want to learn.”
“You will learn very easily. My boy will be here for Christmas and he will teach you.”
“That’s fine. When does he come?”
“Tomorrow night.”
When we were sitting by the stove in the little room after lunch looking out the window at the snow coming down Catherine said, “Wouldn’t you like to go on a trip somewhere by yourself, darling, and be with men and ski?”
“No. Why should I?”
“I should think sometimes you would want to see other people besides me.”
“Do you want to see other people?”
“No.”
“Neither do I.”
“I know. But you’re different. I’m having a child and that makes me contented not to do anything. I know I’m awfully stupid now and I talk too much and I think you ought to get away so you won’t be tired of me.
“Do you want me to go away?”