Audubon Republican. [volume] (Audubon, Iowa) 1894-1925, 1898-11-10
y NSaoe @ .O.os Q.
|AeN6ZZ MlM{xsAN0~
o. by EAzxI aR06W~
!. Auy~oe or -zx< ks or soxo~
sss . Z~< 0yx1< Hov<E <ys.
ee,,<,.~y ,sss sy ~~r~s<
CHAPTER XVIII.

Of1AfIE ANlu.
1t was the evening of election day.
Broadway was tumble Of American
types moving under light fog, which
made every street lamp star in a veil.
From the windows Of the street car
in which Anne sat she saw struggling
professions giving enthusiastic party
cries, politicians on the corners and rag
ged boys racing past with barrels and
shutters which were to blaze later il
splendid impartiality, no matter which
side won.
1t was after 6 o'clock, and she was
on her way to The Citizen with q "spo-
cial'' on timely topic David had asked
her to write. She could have sent it
down, but the idea of going to the old
place On this wild night when Newspa-
per row was seat of war had been per-
sistently with her all day. The building
in the upper part of the town where
she now spent her days was quiet and
had rarefied editorial flavor. 1t was
not as dear as these Shiny, crowded
streets with offices as confused as ant
hills in nearer neighborhood to the sky.
Limelight and the smell of grease paint
mind of an actor who has forsworn the
buskin, and the same fascination drew
Anne to The Citizen tonight for taste
of the old life which had the SAVIOR of
salt.
1t was critical day. When she left
the car and made her way among tho
crowds around the city hall, she became
aware of conflicting excitements in the
air. There were packed masses gathered
early to wait for the first election sig
nal lights on the big buildings. There
were others pressed against the great
newspaper barracks where bulletins in
black capitals told of unexpected and
appalling failures and fortunes lost 1t
seemed to Anne that the confused noises
of the warning earth must at last besiege
heaven as sob.
At the entrance of The Citizen build
ing an electric light as fierce as the pol
itics of the paper blaZed upon the NOV
ing crowds. It fell upon many faces, all
earnest, strained, or preoccupied, and
on one as familiar to Anne as her hand.
David was among the number coming
down, the muddy, stone hall, and she
made her way toward him.
But second glance brought her to
standstill. She read CONSERVATION and
despair in his changed face. AS he
pushed his way toward the door with
out glance either side she waited in
anxiety till lie should reach her and she
would know what grief had altered
him. But his eyes met hers blankly as
he passed en- without word
Anne hesitated, gazing at the angle
where he had disappeared then an ire
sistible desire to hear him speak forced
her back TO the street. She followed
him, the Special forgotten in her
hand.
He was suffering from some shock,
and fear made riot in her thoughts.
Confused ideas of unhappiness in his
home, disaster, the death of some one
dear, the loss of faith, crowded one an
other in her mind as she hurried on
through the mist, her eyes upon him.
She noticed that nothing attracted
his attention, not the raucous cries of
newsboys, the arrest of thief or the
bulletins heralding disaster. Inhabited
by storm which drew his thoughts in-
ward, he walked with unseeing eyes.
And Anne followed him, conscious only
of the ache in herself and the desire to
be near him. 30 they swept on. two
atoms in the human stream, now in
shadow, now in light, until Newspaper
row was left we'll behind and the big
bridge was reached.
Anne understood the feelings which
had urged David here. 1t was the soli-
tude which lighthouse lends above
snarllng sea. The city lay beneath pail
OF vapor. Light came hazily from the
peaked shadows of houses, seeming
from this height the pitiful abode of
earth grubbers. Searchlights from tow
ers, crimson lamps on street cars far be.
low, wavered on the fog, and the adagio
of human life sweeping upward was an
unsyllabled moaning as if from the
heart of a giant Tantalus.
When the street scenes were left be-
hind and the river raced beneath the
bridge, the voice was the same as the
city's in another key. Wave slipped
into wave with signing, and the water
torn by churning boats gushed in rip
ping minor.
In the shade between the towers
David paused. He stood with folded
arms and looked back to where the
lights on The Citizen building famed
like great stars. The pallor of his face.
the contracted brow, the long look full
of detection, told of absolute surrender
to despair.
Anne watched him, while passersby
eddied between them. She longed to
slip her hand into his, to know she was
desired and necessary in his life. Her
throat ached, her heart went wildly ont
to him. But all desire to make him
conscious of her presence left her. He
had come there to face his grief alone.
He had no need of her. She turned
away and left him to his implacabla
thoughts, the solitude and night.
A