The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1898-08-02


seemed to tecl the DISSATISFACTION rising
from his tormented heart and to meet it
with almost servile protest.
He had done what he could to make
the house habitable. TWAS even pref
ty house when compared with the bare
hideousness with which Armitage and
Morgan We're content. The laced bam-
boo flaps ON the windows made the place
swim in gloom as restful after the sun
light as the feeling Of cool hand on
the brow. There was mating on the
floor, a hammock swung in a corner,
some sketches of his own were upon the
walls, some books on the mantelshelf.
Chief among the books were Anne's and
just above them hung q small, unfram-
ed pastel he had made, showing her face
with the expression he loved best, the
eyes glancing sideways. half question
ing, tender.
He dropped the big MANILA hat to the
floor, sank into cane chair and stretch
ed his body out in way expressive Of
unspeakable WEAKNESS Now that his
forehead was barred, the suns strength
was seen in the pallor of the skin just
below the hair, making a division as
sharp as saber cut
Armitage was right; he was used up
and needed rest. His hand sought
some cigars upon small table and then
| slipped back. 1t would be better not to
smoke until Tomas had brought his COT
| fee, Tomas of the many lies, the sickly
sweet smile and the coral tipped pend
ants in Objectionable ears
| All sorts of thoughts and half
thoughts foated through his mind, the
heaviness of the day, the knavery of the
Portuguese agent on the Dom Pedro III
railway, the wish to make money fast
or, the surprising words Armitage had
spoken on the road, aud always, no
matter what his surface thought, the
| fierce and living consciousness of Anne
underlying all, the ungoyemable long
ings he had let speak in that last letter
to her, the craving for her answer, the
constantly recurring waves of honesick-
ness checked by returning determina-
tions to he strong to tho end
One more year of work, and he would
have tested himself enough and made
enough money to go back to New York.
! He SAW the town plainly and with an
Citizen offices, the panorama of spar
king hay and ciotted smoke against a
copper sky seen from it's western Win
lows. the brisk crowds on Broadway,
sNow, furs and violets, hut most of all
Anne's rooms rAu fire, ~ ciasping her
as in u confidence, and perhaps cold
sweet rain washing q wl.4t pant upon
the window sill--cola. cold, sweet rain,
not the sticky mist and wisilass show
ers falling at intervals IA tlds hot sea
son. He longcd to feel its riot and chill
against his face and hear the ring of the
stone pavements under his tread or to
hurry through miles Of frosty sunlight
to Anne's side
Tomas entered with the coffee and
dish of peppered chicken, but midway
across the room he paused and let his
melancholy eyes rest upon his master.
He was asleep, his head fallen back and
exhaustion marking the features. Sleep
was better for him than peppered chick
en-, Tomas reasoned, and remained con-
siderately quiet, his gaze as melancholy
but moro watchful as lie lifted a piece
of the meat to his lips with his fingers
and rhythmically licked their brown
tips 1t was Indeed we'll for his master
to slumber on, and if he took another
piece there would still be enough
Before ao could materialize the
thought voices outside surprised him.
He hurried to the door and met the
Spanish houseseeper of Senior Morgan
about to enter. st q little distance be-
hind her he saw a small group of peo-
pie, two strange women, evidently SIN
glez, and with them Senior Armitage
At the entrance to the conrt stood an OK
cart in which the visitors must have
como from thestation. The heavy beasts
were rubbing their noses together, NOV
ing the iron bells upon their collars and
sending a lonely clang through the sun
light.