Explore "A White Bird Flying" by Bess Streeter Aldrich on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Katherine went back to her home late in the evening of the second day. Larry Albrett drove her down. The night was lovely. Larry, who had "thought a lot" of Kathie, once, had not changed. Which is to say he was still single, still flitting about taking his pleasures where he found them, still thinking a lot of Kathie. At least so he told Kathie. And Kathie, not yet thirty, gay, blithe, loving the flesh pots tremendously, listened. The night was lovely and she was a little foolish. It was very late when they drove up to the house. Lights shone from Verna's room and from the upper hall. Kathie had a swift intuition then that something was not right, but put it aside, and asked Larry in. She was not going to slip in like a young girl sending her lover away, she told herself. Whether Jimmie liked it or not made no great difference now.
They went in, and Kathie, excusing herself, ran upstairs to see how everything was after the two days' absence. Jimmie was not in his room. She slipped down the soft carpeted hall to Verna's room. Verna was there in a chair and Jimmie in pajamas and robe was bending low over her, his arms . . .