light in the room grew dim.  As he turned to go she spoke his name softly and with an impulsive movement took hold of his hand.  Because the reporter was rapidly becoming a man something of his man’s appeal, combined with the winsomeness of the boy, stirred the heart of the lonely woman.  A passionate desire to have him understand the import of life, to learn to interpret it truly and honestly, swept over her.  Leaning forward, her lips brushed his cheek.  At the same moment he for the first time became aware of the marked beauty of her features.  They were both embarrassed, and to relieve her feeling she became harsh and domineering.  “What’s the use?  It will be ten years before you begin to understand what I mean when I talk to you,” she cried passionately.

* * *

On the night of the storm and while the minister sat in the church waiting for her, Kate Swift went to the office of the Winesburg Eagle, intending to have another talk with the boy.  After the long walk in the snow she was cold, lonely, and tired.  As she came through Main Street she saw the fight from the printshop window shining on the snow and on an impulse opened the door and went in.  For an hour she sat by the stove in the office talking of life.  She talked with passionate earnestness.  The impulse that had driven her out into the snow poured itself out into talk.  She became inspired as she sometimes did in the presence of the children in school.  A great eagerness to open the door of life to the boy, who had been her pupil and who she thought might possess a talent for the understanding of life, had possession of her.  So strong was her passion that it became something physical.  Again her hands took hold of his shoulders and she turned him about.  In the dim light her eyes blazed.  She arose and laughed, not sharply as was customary with her, but in a queer, hesitating way.  “I must be going,” she said.  “In a moment, if I stay, I’ll be wanting to kiss you.”

In the newspaper office a confusion arose.  Kate Swift turned and walked to the door.  She was a teacher but she was also a woman.  As she looked at George Willard, the passionate desire to be loved by a man, that had a thousand times before swept like a storm over her body, took possession of her.  In the lamplight George Willard looked no longer a boy, but a man ready to play the part of a man.

The school teacher let George Willard take her into his arms.  In the warm little office the air became suddenly heavy and the strength went out of her body.  Leaning against a low counter by the door she waited.  When he came and put a hand on her shoulder she turned and let her body fall heavily against him.  For George Willard the confusion was immediately increased.  For a moment he held the body of the woman tightly against his body and then it stiffened.  Two sharp little fists began to beat on his face.  When the school teacher had run away and left him alone, he walked up and down the office swearing furiously.