The Daily Ardmoreite. [volume] (Ardmore, Okla.) 1893-current, 1910-12-05

shortly, and promptly beat hasty
retreat from the room.
Like mistress, like maid" Guy
commented, but not without some
chagrin. q seem to have fallen foul
of everyone, except Ferman.'
Mary made no answer. She bent
more closely over the piece of
white material her deft hands were
manipulating. Guy drew a chair up
to the table and helped himself to
some cold koran. But it was only
pretence.
Although he was hungry he had
no desire for food just now.
Mary's stitching went on in ST
lence. The mans black eyes took in
her every movement He could see
that the bowed heal, with its crown
of beautiful brown hair, was beR.
lower than necessary and there was
sort of haste in the plying of the
needle.
He felt that appeal was hopeless;
yet he must make it, Why was it
hopeless? he asked himself. What
had so changed her? Never had
she been so attractive to him as
at that moment when, face to face,
she defied him. His pulses quick
ened. and his blood coursed through
his veins in passionate torrent as
he contemplated her slight, bowel
form He had no exalted thoughts;
but he would have given ten years
OF his life just then to have held
her in his arms and pressed her
soft, rounded form to his breast.
But his feelings had no softening eff,
feet upon him. His desire was a
mere passion OF the senses; that,
and the invincib,e longing of a
thwarted man.
The silence grew irksome. He
pushed the untouched food aside,
ami, propping his elbows upon the
table, supported his face in his
two hands, while his black eyes con
centratcd themselves upon the girls
bowed head.
Mary, You make things devilish
hard" he said slowly. II came here
tonight to act honestly with you
to put few questions and to make
a plain statement or two. You meet
me as though | had done you some
irreparable wrong; as though you
though-as though | We're beyonC
the pale OF association. II it is &
crime to love you, then plead
guilty. But | never yet heard tha
any woman regaried a mans love
for herself as a crime. A matter
for pity, perhaps; but not for
well, the way you are treating me
Tell me, don't you think your atti
tude very unreasonable? l mean
this refusal to see me now?"
1T is the only way"
The girl looked up. This mar
was too clever for her. The GOODNESS
had already died out of her eyes
His manner disarmed her. Some
thing Of their naturally soft light
was shining in them again as she
faced him. She even found hersel
wondering if he quite deserved the
treatment she had meted out; il
it were as necessary as she thought
THE only way?' Guy smile'iI
That is an admission of something
l don't quite know what. The only
way" he repeated. at sense tC
me that that sounds as though you
were afraid to have me around
And If you are afraid-why? You
have plainly told me am nc
longer anything to you; that the
past is dead and gone. AS for me
the mischief is done, so that your
thoughts is not for me, or need
not be anyway. This leaves only one
other possible reason-your husband.
You fear him. What on earth have
you to fear from him? You have
done nothing wrong. No, no; it is
absurd. Maybe you cloak your real
reason. Maybe it is /; you dislike
hate me-"
GUY"
We'll, then, what is it, he ask
ed roughly.
You know ! don't haze you; |
don't hate anybody"
Then why, in"
Were coming back to it all
again" Mary said YEARLY. Il told you
months ago that-that am Fer
mans wife. | know that our ac-
quaintance is harmless enough;
there is nothing wrong in it; but
had we never been anything to
-,..,,1J ho,-.