Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1907-01-17

anticipated it, was oblivious for the
moment of both her movement and
her words. Then quite abruptly they
obtruded themselves Upon him, break
Ing through his egotism with some
thing of the sharpness of pain follow
ing q blow. Turning quickly from the
fireplace, he faced the shadowy room
across which she had passed, but 81
multaneously with his turning she
gained the door.
The knowledge that she was gone
struck him with a sense Of double loss.
"Wait!" he called, suddenly moving
forward. But almost at once he paus-
ed, chilled by the solitude of the room.
"Eve!" he said, using her name I'M
consciously for the first time.
But the corridor, as we'll as the room.
was empty; he was too late. He stood
irresolute; then he laughed shortly.
fireplace.
The blow had fallen, the inevitable
come to pass. and nothing remained
but to take the fact with as good a
grace us possible. Chilcote's telegram
had summoned him to Clifford's inn
at Z o'clock, and it was now we'll on
toward 6. He pulled out his watch
Chilcote's watch, he realized with a
touch Of grim humor as he stopped to
examine the dial by the light of the
fre-then, as if the humor had verged
to another feeling, he stood straight
again and felt for the electric button
In the wall. His fingers touched it,
and simultaneously the room was
lighted.
The abrupt alteration from shadow
to light zane almost as a shock. The
feminine arrangement Of the tea table
seemed incongruous beside the sober
books and the desk laden with papers
-incongruous as his w presence In
the place. The thought was unpleas-
ant. and he turned aside as if to avoid
it, but at the movement his eyes fell
on Chilcote's cigarette box with its
cleaning monogram. and the whim-
steal suggestion of his first morning
rose again. The idea that the mani
mate objects in the room knew him
for what he was, recognized the inter
loper where human eyes saw the right
full possessor, returned to his mind.
Through all his disgust and chagrin a
smile forced itself to his lips, and,
crossing the room for the second time.
he passed into Chilcote's bedroom.
There the massive furniture and
somber atmosphere fitted better with
his mood than the energy and action
which the study always suggested.
Walking directly to the great bed, he
sat on it's side and for several minutes
stared straight in front Of him, appar-
emily seeing nothing; then at last the
apathy passed from him, as his pre-
vious anger against Chilcote had pass
ed. He stood up slowly, drawing his
long limbs together, and recrossed the
room, passing along the corridor and
through the door communicating with
the rest Of the house. Five minutes
later he was in the open air and walk
ing steadily eastward, his hat drawn
forward and his overceat buttoned up.
AS he traversed the streets he allow
ed himself no thought. Once, as he
"dll6u IL 1ldldISdI SQudIS W u1lu a
passage between the vehicles, the re-
membrance of Chilcote's voice coming
out Of the fog OH their first night made
itself prominent. but he rejected 1t
quickly, guarding himself from even
an involuntary glance at the place Of
their meeting. The Strand. with its IN
ceasing life. came to him as something
almost unfamiliar. Since his Identified
ton with the new life no business had
drawn him east of Charing Cross, and
his first sight of the narrower stream.
of traffic struck him as garish and I'LL
pleasant. AS the impression came he
accelerated his steps. moved by the
wish to make regret and re%trospection
alike impossible by a contact with ac-
tual forces.
Still walking hastily, he entered Cliff
ford's inn, but there almost uncon-
%sciously his feet halted. There was
something i'll the quiet immutability OF
the place that sobered energy. both
mental and physical; a sense of
changelessness-the changelessness OF
inanimate things. that rises in such sol
emn contrast to the ~variableness of
mere human nature, which a new Ell.
vironment. a new outlook. sometimes
eve a new presence. has power to up
heaye and remold. He paused. then
with slower and steadier steps crossed
the little court and mounted the ia
miliar stairs of his own house.
AS he turned the handle of his owl
door some one stirred inside the sitting
room. Still under the influence of the
stones and trees that he had just left
he moved directly toward the sound
and, without waiting for permission
entered the room. After the darkness
Of the passage it seemed we'll alight
for, besides the lamp with it's greer
shade, a large fire burned in the CRATE
and helped to dispel the shadows.
AS he entered the room Chilcote rose
and came forward, his figure thrown
into strong relief by the double light
he was dressed in a shabby tweed
suit; his face looked pale and set witt
8 slightly nervous tension. But, beside.