Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-05-22
Falkenberg regard

with tobacco smoke. Falkenberg regard
ed him with distaste.
Make yourself presentable. man." he
we leave in a few minutes"
What, r. Estermen exclaimed, spring
ing up.
You and I and mademoiselle." Falken-
berg told him. Il have made plans. You
may perhaps escape-who can tell?'
Estermen, with a little sob of relief.
they were all three in the big car, Gid
ing through the busy streets. 1t was get
ting toward midnight, and they took their
place among the crowd OF vehicles climb
broad enough they passed always ahead.
At the Rat Mort they came to stand
still. Falkenberg led the way up the
narrow stairs, greeted Albert with both
hands. nodded amiably to the chef d'orch-
estre. the flower girl and the head waiter,
who crowded around him.
For as many as choose to come. he
declared. 1.-THE round table! The best
supper in France. 1t is a gala night. AL
bert. Serve us Of your best. Mademoi-
selle will sing. We are here to taste the
joys Of life."
Albert led the way.
.Ah. monsieur" he said. 'it is good.
indeed. to hear your voice. There is no
one who comes here who enters more
splendidly into the spirit Of the place.
When you are here 1 know that it will
be joyful evening for ALL They catch
IL. too. those Others" he explained.
Sometimes they come here stolid. Brit
ish. They look around them, they eat,
they drink. they sit like stuffed animals.
Then comes monSieur-dear monsieur! He
talks gayly. he laughs. he waves salutes,
he drinks wine, he makes friends. The
thing spreads. 1t is the spirit-the real
spirit. Behold. Even the dull, once they
catch II. they enjoy"
Falkenberg took the cushioned seat in
the corner Close to his side was made
Estermen, gaunt. red-eyed, still haggard
with fear sat few feet away.
''Wine" Falkenberg ordered. Pom
mery-bottles Of it! Never mind IL we
cannot drink it. Let us look at 1t. Let
US imagine the joys that come, added to
those we feel"
Already the wine was rushing into their
glasses. Falkenberg raised his glass.
ITO our last supper. dear sMargYerite!"
he whispered.
She shivered all over She looked at
him. her face was suddenly strained.
You jest!''
Jest? But Is 1t not a night for jests."
he answered. why not? All. Mar
guerite. / take II back! To our first sup
per! Let us say to ourselves that tonight
we stand upon the threshold Of Hfe Let
us say to ourselves that never before
have l seen how blue your eyes shine
now sweet your mouth, now SOFT your
fingers, how dear the thrill which passes
from you to me. Close to me, Marguerite
CLOSE to me, little one! Our first even
ing.''
Dearest" she whispered. FIRST or last,
there could never be another. 1t Is you
who make my life. 1t Is you who, when
you go. leave 1t desolate."
he held her hand more tightly.
Ah. little friend" he murmured, you
spoil me with your sweet phrases. You
set the music playing in my heart-the
witch music, / think. Come. we must
speak to Estermen." he continued look
Ing resolutely away from her. I'VE can
not have him sitting there glum, q deaths
head at our feast. Estermen. drink, man.
Is this funeral party? Wake up. Made
moiselle who dances there looks toward
you. Why not? You see, she waves her
hand. You have waltzed with her before.
Ask her to sit down with us. l have or