Gloucester County Democrat. (Woodbury, N.J.) 1878-1932, 1903-04-16

is ten times worse than owning wife"
Torpenhow came into the studio at
dusk and looked at Dick, with his eyes
full of the austere love that springs up
between men who have tugged at the
same oar together and are yoked by
custom and use and the intimacies of
toll. This is a good love, and, since it
allows and even encourages strife, re-
elimination and the most brutal sin
certify, does not die, but increases and
is proof against any absence and evil
conduct.
Dick was silent after he handed Tor
penhow the filled pipe of council. He
thought of Maisie and her possible
needs. 1t was new thing to think of
anybody but Torpenhow. who could
think for himself. Here at last was
an outlet for that cash balance. He
could adorn Maisie barbarically with
jewelry-a thick gold necklace round
that little neck, bracelets upon the
rounded arms and rings of price upon
her hands-the cool, temperate, ring
less hands that he had taken between
his own.
1t was an absurd thought, for Maisie
would not even allow him to put one
ring on one finger, and she would laugh
at golden trappings. 1t would be bet
ter to sit with her quietly in the dusk,
his arm round her neck and her face on
his shoulder, as beftted husband and
wife. Torpenhow's boots creaked that
night, and his strong voice Jared.
Dicks brows contracted, and he MUIR
INJURED an evil word because he had
taken all his success as a right and
part payment for past discomfort, and
now he was checked in Lis stride by
woman who admitted all the success
and did not instantly care for him.
81 say, old man." said Torpenhow,
who had made one or two vain at
tempts at conversation, II haven't put
your back up by anything I've said
lately, have III
"You! No. How could your"
silver out of order?'
'sThe truly healthy man doesn't know
he has liver. I'm only bit worried
about things in general. suppose it's
my soul.'
''The truly healthy man doesn't know
he has soul. What business have you
with luxuries of that kindy
'It came of itself. Who's the man
who says that we're all islands shout
| ing lies to each other across seas of
| misunderstanding
'He's right, whoever he is, except
| about the misunderstanding. I don't
think we could misunderstood each
| other
The blue smoke curled back from the
ceiling in clouds. Then Torpenhow
said insinuatingly:
''Dsck, is it woman?"
''Be hanged if it's anything remotely
resembling woman, and if you begin
to talk like that I'll hire red brick
studio with white paint trimmings and
begonias and petunias and blue Hun
| garians to play among the three-and-
| sixpenny pot palms, and I'll mount all
my pics in aniline dye plush plasters,
and I'll invite every woman who yelps
| and maunders and means over what
her guidebooks tell her is art, and you
shall receive 'em, Torp, in a snuff
brown velvet coat with yellow trou'
sers and an orange tie. You'll like
| that"
"Too thin, Dick. It's no business Of
mine, but it's comforting to think that
somewhere under the stars there's say
ing up for you a tremendous thrash
ing. Whether it'll come from heaven
or earth, don't know, but it's bound
to come and break you up little. YcV
want hammering."
| Dick shiyered. "All right" said he
'sWhen this island is disintegrated, i
will call for you"
81 shall come round the corner an(
help to disintegrate it some more
We're talking nonsense. Come alons
to theater."
CONTINUED IN NEXT ISSUE.