The Jersey City news., 1902-08-29
CHAPTER III.
HER LAST WORD.

Which Mprv Convyav 17tfpred fhoSa
soatb;ng w,,rds IT have never ceased
= ranrcacb ,nyself for laving 1oafhed
yn, Now With al: INV heart T thank
God for + ), thev wore followed nv 4
Iano doed silence Sbe s1ioht and frail
and ashen white. stood Eoldly fronting
him her ewes filed with intensest
scorn and showing no shred of the fear
with which her heart was onaking: he.
divided between rage and astonish-
noant inst tonched with shame that he
should have raised his hand to woman,
and that woman his young wife So
they stood until at last he found words
with which to speak.
$50 you loathe me, do you p
An older or a wiser woman might
have given softer answer than leaped
to Mary Conway s lips in reply. 'sYea,
she said harshly. 'sOnly loathing is too
mild word. .
ssBut you married mel You were
willing enough to marry meE' he said.
gnawing at his underlip viciously.
ssWillingl Neverl" she flashed out.
ssI married you, it is true, with feel
ings of gratitude, with a desire to de-
my best to repay you for the money you
had laid out, with belief that you
were kind and good if not the lover Of
my yheart nor the husband Of my imagi-
Z nation. / have learned since that there
{ was no need of gratitude from me to
you; that there was no kindness or
goodness in the help you gave during
my mothers illness that every day the
nurse remained, every drop of wine
my mother drank, every strawberry
she ate, was entered into an account
which I was to pay one day with my
very hearts blood. Well, you have had
your pound of flesh, you have bought
your wife, and the bargain is complete,
the debt all paid. Today you have
broken every bond, every link, every
chain, between us. | bear your name;
that's all. :
Is that your last word, Mary (,
eyes, my last word. No, am not
afraid of you. My poor little frail body
is afraid, horribly, desperately afraid
of you, but my heart and soul and all
that's best of me-never- never
neverl''
you'll be glad when I'm gone?''
Thankful. =
.'You'll never remember anything of
what did for your
II shall always remember you as the
man who struck me.
'.You'd like TO be free Of me?"
She drew deep breath more signif-
cant than words. He laughed aloud,
laugh void of merriment, such as one
might hear from the fiends IN hell.
"You'd like me to provide for you
perhaps2 To make you suitable allow
ance and clear out myself, eh2 10 leave
you and your old mother
"Leave my mother out of it!' she
cried fiercely.f
"Oh, I've no wish to say anything
against herl' he retorted. "To do her
full justice, she's always been appreci-
ative enough Of me, a laundering deal
more so than you have. Still she S there.
She's got to be reckoned with, to be
provided for, and you d like to see her
end her days in comfort
81 was satisfied enough with my lie
before you came and made her dlssatls-
fed with the provision that l was able
to make for her You took away my
living. 1t is but right that you should
provide for both. You did nothing with
your eyes shut.
Nor you. Welt de provide for
you both shall continue TO 40 SO.
But there's a side to my part OF the
bargain. didn't look to provide Tor a
wife, to say nothing OF her mother, ana
to keep away from her, and Won, 90
it. You've no witness that 1 struck
you. And it wouldn't sound likely
story anyhow III go away today IN
stead OF Monday, fer m sore and angry
and not master of myself, and neither
are you. But shall come back again.
shall come home again, and you Il re-
ceive me as if nothing had happened
between us. I'm sorry | forgot myself
just now, and for that reason III give
you till come home again to pull your
self together in, and after that we will
begin again as if nothing had happen
cd.
ssI shall never begin again as if moth
ing had happened, she exclaimed
passionately. "How could II You
~+r7r]- mo 81, long aq vor1 were only old