Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of audiobooks, ebooks, and so much more with a free trial

    From $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    Passing
    Passing
    Passing
    Ebook167 pages2 hours

    Passing

    By Nella Larsen and Kaitlyn Greenidge

    4/5

    ()

    Switch to audiobook
    Read preview

    About this ebook

    NOW A MAJOR MOTION PICTURE STARRING TESSA THOMPSON AND RUTH NEGGA

    Two women in 1920s New York discover how fluid and dangerous our perceptions of race can be in this electrifying classic of the Harlem Renaissance—with an introduction by Kaitlyn Greenidge, author of We Love You, Charlie Freeman, finalist for the Center for Fiction First Novel Prize

    “The genius of this book is that its protagonists . . . are complex and fully realized. . . . The work of a highly talented and thoughtful writer.”—Richard Bernstein, The New York Times
    One of The Atlantic’s Great American Novels of the Past 100 Years

    Irene Redfield is living an affluent, enviable life with her husband and children in the thriving African American enclave of Harlem in the 1920s. That is, until she runs into her childhood friend, Clare Kendry. Since they last saw each other, Clare, who is similarly light-skinned, has been “passing” for a white woman, married to a racist man who does not know about his wife’s real identity, which she has chosen to hide from the rest of the world. Irene is both fascinated and repulsed by Clare’s dangerous secret, and in turn, Clare yearns for Irene’s sense of ease and security with her Black identity and community, which Clare gave up in pursuit of a more advantageous life, and which she can never embrace again. As the two women grow close, Clare begins to insert herself and her deception into every part of Irene’s stable existence, and their complex reunion sets off a chain of events that dynamically alters both women forever.
     
    In this psychologically gripping and chilling novel, Nella Larsen explores the blurriness of race, sacrifice, alienation, and desire that defined her own experience as a woman of mixed race, issues that still powerfully resonate today. Ultimately, Larsen forces us to consider whether we can ever truly choose who we are.

    The Modern Library Torchbearers series features women who wrote on their own terms, with boldness, creativity, and a spirit of resistance.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRandom House Publishing Group
    Release dateDec 18, 2007
    ISBN9780307431585
    Author

    Nella Larsen

    Nella Larsen (1891–1964) was an American writer of the Harlem Renaissance. Her two novels include Quicksand (1928) and Passing (1929). She was the first African American woman to wint the prestigious Guggenheim Fellowship for exceptional creative ability in the arts.

    Read more from Nella Larsen

    Related to Passing

    Related ebooks

    Classics For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related categories

    Reviews for Passing

    4/5

    739 ratings55 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

    • 4/5

      Jan 22, 2025

      This book was thought-provoking, challenging, and unexpected in so many ways. More so than Quicksand, which I read over a decade ago, this novel inspired me to think about different degrees of racial passing, how Black people who don’t pass physically can pass socially, and the ways racial passing can intersect with other forms of passing. Because I saw pieces of myself in Irene’s obsession with stability and safety, the book also forced me to reflect on times when I’ve chosen to be inauthentic due to some perceived benefit. That forced self-reflection helped me have a little bit more empathy for Clare than I anticipated. All in all, my big takeaway from this story is that all forms of passing come with a cost that we can't always see until we're forced to pay it.
    • 3/5

      Dec 6, 2024

      Series Info/Source: This is a stand alone book. I borrowed this audiobook from Audible.com.

      Thoughts: This was okay. For some reason, I expected more history in here. Although given that this is a classic that was written when that history wasn't history, I shouldn't have been surprised. I also expected this to be more about the ramifications of a black woman passing as a white woman, but this really wasn't about that either. This was more about how desperate women were to keep their "good" life station through deceit.

      Irene is a black woman married to a black man; they live a well off if not necessarily happy life with their two children. Irene and her husband don't really love each other but they tolerate each other fine. Then Clare comes back into Irene's life. Clare is passing as a white woman and is married to a white man who abhors black people. Clare misses spending time with black folk and starts to hang around Harlem more and more and worm her way into Irene's life. When Irene suspects her husband of infidelity with Clare, she becomes paranoid and starts to take drastic measures.

      This does an excellent job of showing how having women depend on men for their livelihoods can make them defensive and aggressive in protecting their situation. I felt like that message was even stronger than the message of racial divide and the message around Clare wanting to spend more time with a black community even though she's been passing as white for some time.

      This story ages fine, it was easy to listen to and the audiobook is well done. I didn't really enjoy this, though. I thought all of the characters in here were manipulative and unlikable; I really disliked them all. I understand that this characterization is supposed to be a product of the divisive era. I also felt like this ended very very abruptly and felt really unfinished.

      I guess this is a fine look into this kind of issues, and the story hasn't age poorly. Mostly, reading this just made me feel sad about the way humans used to (and still do) treat each other.

      My Summary (3/5): Overall this okay, it is a decent classic story that gives a glimpse into the sexism and racism of the 1920's. I didn't particularly enjoy this. I disliked all of the characters immensely and thought the story felt unfinished. This left me feeling mostly just sad. However, it is an easy read and does provide an intriguing glimpse into that era.
    • 2/5

      Sep 8, 2024

      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.
    • 3/5

      Mar 12, 2024

      This is a book I will want to reread when I’m not overwhelmed with teaching and my own school. I rushed through it to get done, some of this short classic dragging along. I was mad Clare didn’t stand up for herself against her husband but also couldn’t imagine being in her shoes. I would never want to hide my history even though I’m so called “passing”.
    • 3/5

      Mar 5, 2024

      An interesting book but with no likable characters, which I'm sure was intentional. Passing as white is not the only kind of passing going on here. The novel presents a point of view we don't usually get, but still this is a book obsessed with class and appearances.
    • 4/5

      Aug 14, 2024

      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.
    • 4/5

      Dec 16, 2023

      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.)
    • 5/5

      Apr 16, 2023

      Passing by Nella Larson is a 1929 publication.

      This short novel really packs a punch and could put any current day psychological author to the test. Set in the Harlem Renaissance, the story is centered around two childhood friends, Irene Redfield and Clare Kendy. Both are light-skinned black women- but Irene lives in Harlem with her husband and two children, while Clare passes for white, enjoying the benefits of a society wife. Irene is proud of her heritage, while Clare felt ‘passing’ would provide with her a more comfortable life.

      When the two women meet again after many years of separation, the consequences of their decisions will alter their lives in ways they never could have imagined.

      This novel explores the themes of race and identity- subjects that are still quite relevant today. I thought this was a taut, tightly wound story in many ways. There is always an uneasy feeling humming just beneath the surface. The repercussions of living a lie, the constant fear of exposure, and the burden it places on others who are forced to keep secrets, on top of the building tensions in Irene’s marriage once Clare forcefully inserts herself into Irene’s life again, made for some disquieting and complex situations that had me holding my breath as the suspense builds to its shocking climax.

      With any short story the issue of character development can be a problem for me, but in this situation the dialogue and Irene’s inner thoughts are all that is required to create plenty of complexity.

      The conclusion, though deliberately ambiguous, was stunning nonetheless, and left me feeling a little numb for a while.

      The novel is very well-written, thought-provoking, suspenseful and tragic. I highly recommend this incredible, timeless classic!

      4.5 stars
    • 3/5

      Jan 26, 2023

      Eye opening, needed it.
    • 4/5

      Dec 30, 2022

      I read this book with increasing fascination. Not because it taught me anything new about passing, but because of the layered nature of Irene's inner conflict. Also, concerning Clare, it was my first time seeing this particular dynamic in fiction, I think: of one who'd passed and now longed to come back.

      Yet, even with my fascination, the book's short length worked in favor of my reading situation, since I tend not to read long novels this bleak, where all the principal characters are so unhappy with their lives.

      With that said, a novella like this disproves the myth that some believe—the idea that short fiction can't be deep or complex, with well-developed characters. A skilled writer can pack a lot into relatively few words when that's all a particular story calls for.
    • 4/5

      Dec 29, 2022

      Second read review
      I reread this sooner than I would have liked for a book club. My first read was by audiobook last fall. This time I read a physical copy of the book. I think the audiobook is actually better. During my second read, Larsen's writing never reached a point of feeling smooth or effortless. Sentence construction and vocab choices felt a little awkward at times. It may have been because I'd read this so recently and my mind wasn't completely engaged, but I know the awkwardness is completely unnoticeable in the audiobook.

      During this second read, the biggest thing I took away was when this story was placed, shortly after the war. It made Brian easier to understand as a character. In matters of race, I also felt like Brian, Irene, and Clare represented a solid spectrum of how black people deal with racism in America. Brian is incredibly relatable, Irene is incredibly familiar, and I imagine most black people have known at least one Clare. The discussions these three characters have around race are so classic and enduring. They are the same discussions I've had with family and friends throughout my life.

      I know some people read queerness in this book, so I tried to look out for it in this read, but I just don't see it. Irene and Clare's dynamic reminds me so much of a platonic friendship I had in my twenties. And Irene's loveless marriage didn't feel like it was anything deeper than a woman of her time not having many options. So, I won't be adding this to my own queer lit canon. But still an enjoyable read.

      First read review
      This book is tale of "fuck around and find out" and "play stupid games, win stupid prizes." Irene is a dream protagonist. I love watching a mature, socially competent, self-assured woman go through a difficult situation. And the difficult situation in this novel is Irene's cuckoo, passing childhood friend breezing back into her life. Irene is such a charming character with her ability to navigate all spaces and situations so eloquently while keeping true to herself and her core desires. And her cuckoo passing friend, Clare is a lovely antihero or villain. I have a special fondness for bad mothers. The first half of the book sets up their dynamic and things quickly begin ratcheting up for a very tense ending. Incredible.

      I will say that Larsen is very straightforward about Irene's core desires and Clare's personality flaws, which are in direct conflict. I'm not so sure she had to be. Leaving it for the reader to figure out may have made it a little more engaging or mysterious or impactful. But no, this is a rather straight-forward story with an only slightly mysterious ending. Still, incredibly enjoyable.
    • 4/5

      Dec 2, 2022

      I really enjoyed this book and will be purchasing a physical copy to re-read and annotate. The writing is poignant, beautiful, and sometimes difficult, but do not disappoint in evoking emotion. I often found myself experiencing the same foreboding and heart quickening feeling as the main character. The fear that comes with "passing" is something that I will never personally experience, but to imagine living a lie and having to abandon all you know in pursuit of another life that ultimately is not all that you thought it would be and only to end up missing something as little as the laughter of your people, it's sad. I hate that I came across this book so late in life, but I'm nevertheless thankful that I have had the privilege to experience it. This is easily one of my favorite reads and will stick with me forever.

      Shoutout to booktuber Bree Hill for putting me on to this must read.

      4.5 stars
    • 4/5

      Oct 31, 2022

      Childhood friends Irene Redfield and Clare Kendry reconnect after many years. Irene has remained in the black community of her youth, while Clare has married a bigoted white man who does not know his wife is of mixed race. Clare misses a feeling of community and befriends Irene’s family, spending time at their house and attending local functions. Irene is not completely comfortable with her old friend and is troubled by her decision to “pass.” This troubled feeling is at the heart of the book.

      The story is narrated in third person from Irene’s perspective. It examines loyalty, longing, respect, risk-taking, and identity. I read it as both an indictment of racism and a portrayal of the heavy personal cost of social mores that require racial categorization. It was published in 1929, during a time when “separate but equal” was the law of the land in the US. I was unprepared for the ending and it offers the reader many possible interpretations. I can see why this book is considered a classic.
    • 2/5

      Oct 23, 2022

      2.5 stars
      One of the strangest books I've read, it's about a woman, Clare, in 1920s New York, who as a light-skinned POC, passes as a huera. In fact, she's married to a racist white man who openly admits that he hates POC, yet he doesn't know he's married to a black woman.
      It was apparently a thing, in the 1920s, for White people to go to Harlem and hang out with POC, in their clubs. I believe this is what later came to be known as "slumming."
      But the characters in this story are all bourgeois, so neither color of characters are acting natural; it feels too much like they're all reading lines off a manuscript. Check out this unbelievable line from the character who is modeled after Carl Van Vechten, a white novelist of the time who wrote a book about POC with an offensive title. At a dance, he asks Irene, a bougie black who was a childhood friend of Clare's, who the beautiful blonde was:
      " 'She's a girl I used to know a long time ago in Chicago. And she wanted especially to meet you.'
      'S' awfully good of her, I'm sure. And now, alas! The usual thing's happened. All these others, these - er - "gentlemen of colour" have driven a mere Nordic from her mind.'
      'Stuff!'
      'S' a fact, and what happens to all the ladies of my Superior race who are lured up here. Look at Bianca. Have I laid eyes on her tonight except in spots, here and there, being twirled about by some Ethiopian? I have not.' " P.76

      The author several times has her POC characters refer to themselves as "children of Ham." In the explanatory notes, it says: "Ham's dark children; (Genesis 10:6 - 20), in the Biblical Table of Nations, the descendants of Noah's son Ham are the Semitic - speaking people of Canaan, then belonging to Egypt, and the hamitic - speak speaking people of northern Africa, including Egypt, Ethiopia, and Nubia." P.121
      And also:
      " '...sons and Daughters of Ham': (Genesis 9:20 - 27), "literally, the Canaanites, the descendants of Ham, one of the three sons of Noah, saved from God's destruction of a wicked World by flooding. Ham was punished for mocking his father's drunkenness and nakedness. Ham's punishment for disrespecting his father fell upon his children who were cursed to become the slaves of his brothers' children; slaveholders in the United States applied this biblical account to Africans and used it as a justification for slavery." P.117
    • 4/5

      Aug 21, 2022

      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

      Jul 22, 2022

      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.
    • 5/5

      Apr 24, 2022

      I am simply in awe of this writing talent. A short read, yet brimming with detail and nuance. Timeless and brilliant.
    • 4/5

      Apr 6, 2022

      This novel is a remarkable story of two early twentieth century African American women who had grown up together but whose lives diverged as they grew up. When a chance encounter brings them together again after a number of years, we learn that one married a black man and became active in the Harlem Renaissance; the other -- who was light-skinned enough to "pass" -- married a white man (a racist one, at that), leaving her heritage and previous identity behind. Can one truly reinvent oneself? How succesfully can one construct a self out of nothing? The ending was a shocker.
    • 4/5

      Feb 24, 2022

      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.
    • 3/5

      Jan 21, 2022

      For Harlem Renaissance, but a good and earth-shattering read. Irene's mind was expressed flawlessly.
    • 4/5

      Jan 18, 2022

      2022 pandemic read. Wow. The story of Nella Larsen, herself, is equally fascinating.
    • 4/5

      Jan 17, 2022

      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

      Nov 3, 2021

      “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.
    • 4/5

      Aug 16, 2021

      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

      Jun 18, 2021

      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

      May 17, 2021

      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.
    • 5/5

      May 3, 2021

      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.
    • 3/5

      Mar 8, 2021

      Interesting subject i never thought about. Good writing. Surprising ending.
    • 4/5

      Mar 3, 2021

      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.
    • 4/5

      Feb 28, 2021

      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.

    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 unfavorable 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,¹ 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 time at the specks of cars and people creeping about in streets, and thinking how silly they looked, when on taking up her glass she was surprised to find it empty at last. She asked for more tea and while she waited, began to recall the happenings of the day and to wonder what she was to do about Ted and his book. Why was it that almost invariably he wanted something that was difficult or impossible to get? Like his father. For ever wanting something that he couldn’t have.

    Presently there were voices, a man’s booming one and a woman’s slightly husky. 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. Behind her there was a man, very red in the face, who was mopping his neck and forehead with a big crumpled handkerchief.

    Oh dear! Irene groaned, rasped by annoyance, for after a little discussion and commotion they had stopped at the very next table. She had been alone there at the window and it had been so satisfyingly quiet. Now, of course, they would chatter.

    But no. Only the woman sat down. The man remained standing, abstractedly pinching the knot of his bright blue tie. Across the small space that separated the two tables his voice carried clearly.

    See you later, then, he declared, looking down at the woman. There was pleasure in his tones and a smile on his

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1