Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-01-31

her soberly gowned figure She glanced at
the clock and smiled little with her
calm,- almost pensve lips, as she placed a
pearl-gloved hand on the back OF the tilted
chair.
Il am on time. you see." she said quiet
~, In her soft contralto as she sank
began drawing Off her gloves. TT is pre-
Outwardly she appeared at ease, we'll
poised and unrufled. Only the quick rise
and fan Of her bosom and the tremulous-
ness Of her hands gave any sign Of her in
ner agitation.
"Why-Frankv cried Durkin, with eio-
au ,;1.,o enough inadequacy. his face paling
little. FOR all his own assumption Of easy
fortitude. He continued to look at her. q
sudden lump in his throat choking back
the hundred stampeding words that seemed
clamoring for escape. He noticed. as he
had so often noticed before, how rapid and
easy were her movements and how through
all her softness. she impressed one with a
sense of her great muscular agility.
For one wavering moment she let her
eyes lose their studied calmness, and, in
wardly surrendering. gazed at him reck-
lessly, abandonedly, with her very soul in
her face.
"Is it safe here?" she murmured, as she
drew her chair up.
He nodded. "As safe as anywhere" he
was on the point of replying, but did not
speak the words.
Dearest" she whispered to him, with
her eyes still on his face, and her back to
the crowded room.
He tried to seize her ungloved hand in
monitory "Hssssh.'' Then he, too, re-
membered, and they took up their role Of
outward Indifference once more.
Il had to come back, you see" she con-
fessed, with what seemed a shamed and
mournful shake of the head.
Something told me you would, all along,
even after your first letter I saw 1t, as
surely as l see you now!'
NH 10 r ,tn Uary vrva0 -
it showed me that We can't bury our past
in day, or week. or MONTH It's
made me afraid of myself and taught me
how weak I ami
And again she looked at him across the
quiet but abysmal gulf Of her reawaken-
ing despair.
"But there is just where we make our
selves SO unhappy-we're SO afraid about
what is it?'
"Oh. I am without defenser' she la
mented, unfortunately and inconsequen-
TALLY. She signed again, and still again
gazed into his face with her shadowy and
unhappy and seemingly hungry eyes. Then,
with a sudden abandoning uptoss of her
reckless hands, that seemed to fling both
solemnity and memory from her: she
laughingly declared that 1t was already
too late to cry over split milk. Yet the
sound Of her careless laughter fell, in some
way, more iugubriously on Durkin's ear
than had all her earlier lamentation.
But why did You ever write that first
letter." he persisted.
She knew she could not explain. salts
factorily:. ut was the result Of being lone
after my illness!'
Durkin called the waiter and gave him
an order for two milk punches, putting his
cigar with assumed unconcern, while the
woman murmured across the table to him:
you look quite foreign with that magni-
ficent Vandyke! And, by the way, how
do you like my English bang?"
"Why, it's dyedv' said Durkin, for the
first time missing the sunny CLINT in the
familiar crown of chestnut.
"Jim," said the woman In lower tones,
SOLDERING again, there's trouble ahead al
ready!'
She drew her chair a little closer and
leaned forward with her elbows on the
table and her chin in her hands. Durkin
lighted another cigar and lounged toward
alert with new and different interest
'MacNutt?"
NO not him, thank heaveni"
You don't mean Doogan's men?"
mot so loud. dear! No. not Doogans
men. either. It's nothing like that But
tell me, quickly, has anything gone wrong
mot thing-except that you were
away"
But hasn't anything happened since I
saw your
Nothing worth while-no It's been so
dull, SO deadly dull. all but jumped back
pool room or two! Five whole weeks Of
Of just waiting for you!'
She caught up her veil where part of
it dropped down from her hat rim, and
smiled her wistfully girlsh smile at him.
Then she glanced carefully about her; no
one seemed within earshot.
Yes, 1 know. 1t seemed just as long
to me dearest Only because of several
things. I had to jump into something.
That's what must tell you about-but we
can't talk here"
''Then Wen have William call han
som?'
mot a hanson, Jim-a four wheeler.
We can talk there without having driver
lifting lid over our heads very minute!'
DO you know" she went on, as she
watched the waiter push out through the
crowded. many -odored room, II often think
must have lived through the ordinary
feelings Of life. I mean that we have al
ready taken such chances together, you and
I, that now only big thing can stir me
all the everyday sensations of life
Eyes, 1 know the feeling" said Durkin.
through his cigar smoke. II suppose it's
really a sort of drunkenness with us now.
couldn't go back to the other things any
more than I could go back toto stogies.
All this last four weeks of hanging about
have felt lke-Oh, like a sailor who has
pounded round every strange sea in the
world and has come home to be told not
to go out of his own back yard"
That's how 1 felt toward the last in
London, with nothing to do, nothing to
think about, or plan or live for 1 got SO
nearly screamed every time I faced the
four dull walls of that hotel room. But,
you see we have both fallen back on the
wrong sort Of stimulant. After all, what
wrote you in that letter was true! Neither
of us two should ever have been evil doors.
l am too-too much like other women, l
suppose And you're too thin skinned and
introspective-too much of a Hamlet. You
should never have tapped wire; and l
should never have been a welcher and
robbed MacNutt. You ought to have gone
on being a nice, respectable young train
dispatcher. with a row of geraniums in
front of your station window; and l ought
to be a prim little branch-office telegrapher
in one of those big Broadway hotel cor
ridors in a little wire cage, between the
news stand and the cigar counter. Then
we should both have lot still to look for
and to live for
She broke off inconsequentiallys and gazed
out through the lightly curtained cafe win
dow to where a street piano was throbbing
out the waltz tune of Sammy"
DO you remember our first days to-
gether?-the music and theaters and drives!
Oh, what happy four weeks they were!'
And she gazed at him dreamily as she
hummed the tune of Sammy in her
throaty. low-noted contralto. ending with
nonchalant little laugh as she looked up
and said. but here's our cab. at last"'
In the half light Of the carriage, as they