The Miller press. [volume] (Miller, S.D.) 190?-current, 1911-04-06


looking down at me oddly. All my
brayado faded away and there was @
queerish ringing In my ears.
Il would like to-" he said tensely.
Il would like. this minute-Fm a fool,
Mrs. Wilson," he finished miserably.
II ought to be drawn and quartered.
but when / see you like this II get
crazy. II you say the word, Pll-Ill
go down and" He clenched his fist.
1t was reprehensible, Of course; he
saw that in an instant, for he shut his
teeth over something that sounded
very fierce, and strobe away from me.
to stand looking out over the river,
with his hands thrust In his pockets.
OF course the thing l should have
done was to ignore what he had said
altogether, but he was so uncomfort'
able, so Chastened, that, feline, femi-
nine, whatever the instinct is. / could
not let him go. l had been 80
wretched myself.
What is it you would like to say"
l called over to him. He did not
speak. Would you tell me that I am
a silly child for pouting?" No reply;
he struck a match. cor would you
preach a nice little sermon about
people-about women-loving their
husbands"
He gruntod savagely under his
breath.
"Be quite honest" I pursued relent,
lessly. Say that we are a lot Of
barbarians, say that because my-be-
cause Jimmy treats me outrageously-
oh, he does; any enc can see that
and because I loathe him-and any
one can tell that-why don't you say
you are shocked to the depths?" l
was a little shocked myself by that
time, but l couldn't stop, having
started.
He came over to me, white-faced
and towering, and he had the audacity
to grip my arm and stand me on my
feet, like a bad child-which | was, l
dare say.
DON'T" he said in a husky, very
B"AHNu 'Oi'S' L OhlJ ldlhluSs
You don't mean it. 1t isn't you. You
know you care, or else why are you
crying up here? And don't do it
again, don't do it again-or l will"
You will-what?"
Make a fool of myself, as have
now" he finished grimly. And then
he stalked away and left me there
alone, completely bewildered, to find
my way down in the dark.
| CROPPED along, holding to the rail,
for the staircase to the roof was very
steep, and / went slowly. Halfway
down the stairs there was a tiny land
ing, and l stopped. I could have
sworn l heard Mr.. Harbison's foot
steps far below, growing fainter. I
ever smiled a little. there in the dark,
although l had been rather profoundly
shaken. The next instant | knew l
had been wrong; some n was on tho
landing with me-. l could hear short,
sharp breathing, and then
l am not sure that l struggled; In
fact, l don't believe l did was too
limp with amazement. The creature,
to have lain In wait for me like that!
And he was brutally strong: He
caught me to him fercely, and held
me there close, and he kissed me-not
once or twice, but half a dozen times.
long kisses that filled me with hot
shame for him, for myself, that / had
liked him. The roughness of his
coat bruised my cheek: I loathed him.
And then some one came whistling
along the hall below. and he pushed
me from him and stood listening.
breathing in long, gasping breaths.
l ran: When my shaky knees
hide my hot face. my disgust, my dis
illusion: / wanted to put my head in
mothers lap and cry; wanted to die,
or be i'll, so | need lever see him again.
Perversely enough, l did none Of those
things. With my face still flaming,
with burning eyes and hands that
shook, / made a belated evening toilet
and went slowly. haughtily. down the
stairs. My hands were like ice, but l
was consumed with rage. Oh,
would show hin-that this vas New
York. not I~quique; that the roof was
not his Andean tableland.
Every one deliberately ignored my
absence from dinner. The Dallas
Browns, Max and Lollie were at
bridge; Jim was alone In the den,
walking the floor and biting at an I'M
lighted cigar; Betty had returned to
Aunt Selma and was hysterical, they
said, and Flanagan was in deep de-
lection because / had missed my dim
ner.
CTo BE coNTINUED)