Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1906-11-16
THE GAMBLER
KATHERINE CECIL THURSTON,
Author Of 1.-THE Masqusrader." Etc.
Copyright 1905 rights resefved)

marks that nations art The song was a
hymn to life-and its indispensable coadju-
tors. youth and love: and it went with Pc
ulated the fancy. He sang 1t as 1t should
be supg-easily and arrogantly for, as fire.
Quent1y happens with musicians, he could
express in music thoughts ideas and emo
lions that never crossed his own selfish,
somewhat narrow soul.
Clodagh, staring down into the dark wa
ters in an attitude OF rapt attention, drank
vibration died away, she looked round at
DeerehurSt with an expression infinitely
softened and enhanced.
| How beautiful she said. "Oh, how
Without replying he sank into chair
that stood close to hers, and in his turn
laid his arms upon the balcony railing.
1T is not the song that is beautiful. Mrs.
Milbanke," he said at last. but the
thoughts 1t has awakened in you"
Clodagh looked at him in silent question.
She was still under the spell Of the music,
and saw nothing to fear in his cold gaze.
You were the instrument" he went on,
in the same lowered voice THE notes
were not played upon the piano, but upon
| your brain. Your brain is a network of
sensitive strings, waiting to be played on
by every factor in lffe-music, color, sun
shine, emotion" His tone sank.
Cdodagh glanced quickly at his tall, thin
figure seated so close to her own. and at
! the waxlike. inscrutable face showing
through the dusk.
You seem to know me better than I
know myself" she said. uncertainty.
He watched her intently for moment;
then he leaned forward, his long, pale fin
gers toying with the ribbon Of his eyeglass.
Il do know you better than you know
| yourself"
She gave little, embarrassed laugh.
Then enlighten me-.
, Again he seemed to study her; then he
leaned back in his chair with a decisive
movement.
No he said mo Not now. In a
year-or two-or even three, perhaps. But
| not now"
| She laughed again, and unconsciously a
note OF relief underran her laugh-a relief
| that. by a natural sequence Of emotion,
brought fresh reaction to the coquetry OF
| an hour ago.
With quick turn of the head she looked
up at him.
but how shall find you in a year-or
| two-or three?'
| words held challenge; but the thought was
| fraught with the new intoXication that the
evening had begotten. .
| With a swift movement he bent close to
her.
THE world is very small, Mrs. Milbanke-
when one desires to make it So" -f
In the half-light of the balcony his pale
eyes seemed to search hers.
Involuntarily she blushed, but her glance
met his steadily enough
mot until one has been ten times round
IT. she reminded him.
He laughed his thin, amused laugh; then
suddenly he became grave again.
Don't you feel" he said, that when we
desire thing very greatly, our own will
power may bend circumstances?
Her eyes faltered, and her gaze moved to
the gondolas fitting silently below them.
II think 1 have given up desiring things
greatly she said. in low, uneven voice.
Deerehursts eyelids narrowed
Would 1t be presumptuous to ask why?"
mo Oh, no!
But you will not throw light upon my
darkness?''
She turned her head, and once more her
gaze rested on his face.
NO she said, softly, 1T isn't that 1t
is that l don't believe / could enlighten
you-even if 1 would 1 am puzzle to my
SELF
The deeper a riddle. the more tempting
It's solution r
Very quietly he drew still nearer, until
his foot touched the hem of her skirt.
The action, more than the words, startled
her. With little laugh she drew back into
her seat
Perhaps 1t is no riddle, after ALL she
said, quickly. Perhaps it is the lack of
human nature-the likeness to Mr.. Luard's
Sir Galahad.' --.---
She laughed again, nervously. Then sud
denly her own words suggested to her a
new and less dangerous channel of talk.
when is this wonderful person to be in