Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-09-10


Shut the door, she suggested "Pcr-
haps its just as well that people here
shouldn't know any more of our private
affairs than necessary"
He obeyed, and turned the KEY in the lock.
His wife had moved to the window and
stood, very straight and pale, waiting for
him to speak. She seemed, if anything,
Simmer than when he had seen her last, and
her hair, which had fallen loosely about her
shoulders, was FURNISHED with the last warm
glow from Saguachc Peak. He had never
thought her more beautiful; but there we're
lines at her eyes and mouth that the growing
shadows of the room made deeper.
Il suppose you're willing to believe the
worst of me" he began, "and of her. Per-
haps ought to tell you first that she came
here only this morning-that she's going
away tomorrow"
at isn't necessary to explain" she inter
rupted. al hope Mrs. Cheyne won't go on
my account. I'm going too in the morning.
In the circumstances I'm sorry | couldn't
have waited day or two; but | had to see
YOU at once"
"You had to see me? Has something gone
wrong in New York? What is"
ooh, no. YEARLY. "Everything in New
| York is all right. I've had everything packed
| in boxes and have given up the apartment
at the hotel
Ieff's brows tangled in mystiication.
| "You've given up the apartments Why"
"I'm not going to live there any more.
I'm going to kansas-to Abilene. I'm very
| tired left, and | need a rest"
| Camilla" He pushed an armchair
toward her and made her sit "You do look
as if volt You're not sick, are you?'
ooh, no; just tired of everything her
voice was low as it always had BEEN but it
had no life in it, Gust tired of being mis-
understood. | won't explain, and | don't
expect you to. | couldn't listen if you did.
| came here because had to come, because,
no matter what our relations are, it was my
| duty to see you at once and tell you some
thing of the greatest Importance.
| He stood behind her chair his fingers close
to her pallid cheeks, gently brushed by the
| filaments of her hair, the perfume of which
reached him like some sweet memory. He
leaned over her, aching for some token that
would let him take her in his arms and for
get all the shadows that had for SO long hung
| about them But as she spoke he straight
tened, glowering at the wall beyond her.
| at isn't-it's nothlng-to do with YOU
and Cort Bent9"
| ooh, no, not at ALL | haven't seen Cort
for sometime. It's about-about the Gen
eral."
GENERAL BENT" Jeff gave a quick
- sigh, paced across the room and then
turned with frown. "I'm not interested
in General Bent" he muttercd. "For me
he has stopped being person He's only a
piece of machinery, steel octopus, that's
slowly crushing me to bits. I'd rather not
talk of General Bent"
| as it as bad as that she murmured,
awestrcken.
| "Yes-theyve pushed me to the wall.
I'm still fighting; but unless | compromise
or sell the mine" he stopped and straight
tened his great frame Camilla, don't let
talk of this. l know you're tired. l won't
stay long. Just tell me what you mean
about going back to Abilene.
She clasped her hands ncrvously. glad of
| the chance to postpone her revelation, which
seemed to grow more difficult with each
moment. Il can't stand the life I'm living,
Jeff | can't take any more from you. I've
done it all spring because you wanted me to;
but | can't live lie any longer. Those
rooms, that luxury, the servants, the people
about me, they oppressed me and bore me to
| the earth. | had no right to them-still less
now that things are going badly with you.
You wanted me to keep the place we'd
made, to make larger place for your name
| in New York. | hope have made it; but