The Detroit times. [volume] (Detroit, Mich.) 1903-1920, 1911-06-24
CHAPTER III.-(contInued.)


"You must never see me again.
You mustn't stay In town. nor try TO
do anything. Oh, can't you under
stand? The only help you can give
is to go-go away utterly and forget
all about II as II you had never met
me. Honestly, I'm grateful. and l
think everything good OF you, but-oh.
go away"
las you please" said. What
about my things?"
Wait a minute" She ran lightly
up TO the landing and returned with
my suitcase, closed and strapped. 1
took my hat from the table by the
door.
"Good-by," she said. Promise me
not to try to come back"
What Is there In darkness and the
sense of night TO make even the plain
est woman SO lovely? She was close
before me as turned. the mysterious
oval of her face wavering upward as
though rising through dim water; her
hair heavier shadow against the
gloom. her lips living blossom. and
her eyes luminous out Of undiscover-
able depths. The dark wrap she wore
lost itself downward In long. fading
lines; and all the hidden form and
the nameless fragrance of her were
wonderfully the same, one with mid
night and midsummer. AS took her
hand, I do not know what agony OF
restraint held my arms from around
her: only l kept repeating over and
over to myself. Il have no right
have no right"-and because OF that
could not for a moment answer her
In words. Suddenly from above came
a sharp shock and the metallic splash
OF broken glass. The voices broke
out In a quick murmur, and she
shrank and shook as IL cringing away
| from a blow.
"oh. go quickly!" she cried. They
need me-"
opened the door. "Good-by," / said
weakly. "and-God bless you!" And
even as I turned on the threshold TO
lift my hat the latch clicked behind
me.
CHAPTER w.
An Insult In the Morning.
I paused at the gate and looked
back. In the upper windows lights
were showing behind the shades, and
now and then o swift shadow passed
across the pane. Yet the house was
altogether quiet, free within and
| without from any evidence OF the un-
usual. A waning moon glowed large
and distorted through the shrubbery,
and from all about rose the sweet
breath and innumerable tiny voices
of the night, comfortable chirps and
rustlings, the creak OF frogs and the
rasp OF an occasional katydid; ac-
| centuating by their muItiety and
smallness the sense OF overwhelming
peace. AS / went on, quick move
ment at my feet made me start; then
smiled to recognize the clumsy
hurry of toad; and the incident
seemed to point the contrast between
the human tension of the last half
hour and the huge normality of the
outer world. With every step II grew
more difficult for me to believe in the
turmoil from which I had come; tn
strain and secrecy. the troubled
voices and the moving lights became
| fictitious as the scenes OF a sensa-
tional story, plausible In the reading,
turn to pasteboard and tinsel when
we have closed the book. Only the
quiet gloom was real, the hush and
fresh aroma of ordinary night.
I had anticipated some difficulty in
gaining admission to a country inn at
such an hour, but as l climbed the
hill was surprised to see II still
open and alight; and glance at my
watch deepened my surprise into
| establishment. II was not yet mid
night, and I had felt that II was at
| Least two or three I'm the morning SO
here was another contrast TO add to
the sense OF unreality; and | entered
the low-ceiled and dingy little office
feeling like Tennyson's Prince return
ing from a fight with shadows.
| My room was cool and pleasant
enough, but sleep and excitement had
evaporated my drowsiness and lay
thinking in reminiscent circles. trying
In vain to puzzle out some theory that
would At the circumstances of the