Atlanta Georgian. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, 1912-06-22

you're talking, There was a childish
petulance in her tone, but the vague fear
in her eyes had deepened
Where is Tempest street, and what
bag do you mean?"
For answer Remington put his hand in
his pocket and grew out the vanity bag
OF violet crushed morocco which had con-
tanned the Lake Of Blood and held it to-
wards her. His hand trembed so that,
as the moonlight fell on the name that
spFawled across the corner, it touched
every brilliant of which it was composed
to tiny point of trembling fame. and her
name looked up at her written in fire,
Betty"
"Ah' The girls short, appalled, cry
rang out sharply on the quletness OF the
night With transition that was star
tlne-chlld no longer, but trembling, ter
rtfied woman-she leaned forward, staring
at the bag In his hand, her eyes full of a
horror that was no longer vague. "My
bag! Where-ah, now rememberv
1t seemed to Huntington that nothing
could ever glot out from his memory the
agony of those two words-'I remember"
A moment of absolute silence followed
the cry. He stood swept by an almost
slckening reaction What was it he had
done? He had succeeded incredibly, be-
You'd all hope in doing what he had so
ardently longed to do he had pierced
those merciful mists of forgetfulness
which shock and fear had raised in the
girls brain, but now he felt he would
gladly give his right hand to undo what
he had done. For what was it she re-
membered which held her there rigid be-
fore him?
Betty raised her eyes from the bag he
held he ryto t1,a4 LIZ
was so full of pain and fear that it hurt
him as a knife thrust in his heart
An Awakening.
Then it was no dream! I remember it
all now-everything; all that horror, the
strange terrifying house and the awful
quiet of that room. Oh, how I remember
now"
shudderingly she pressed her hands over
her eyes, as If to shut out the terrible men,
tai vision that had swept back on her with
surging rush.
Betty Betty Remington took a step
towards her. an overwhelming pity well
ling up in his heart The sight of that
white, grief-ravaged face. those eyes
filled with fear and horror, seemed to
swept all sense of anything save his love
for this woman from his mind Whatever
to himself or to any other of that action,
all that mattered now was that she was
to be comforted, reassured His arm
closed about her. holding her fast-so that
as though he defied even the shadow of
fear to creep between them. That is all
that il is-an ugly dream, darling! A
dream that you must forget"
Just for a moment she yielded to his
embrace, leaning against his shoulder
with the faint, satisfied sigh of a tired
child; then, with an almost violent alb
ruptness she wrenched herself away from
him, facing him with a desolate cry.
''Oh, no. not now-not nov Is this
time to think of such things? Don't you
realize@what lies between us?'
1t was very still there by the river
Even the faint cry of the night bird in the
woods was slenced. Rimington seemed
to feel the silence like some tangible
thing. brooding over him, sentient thing
that listened and waited
Betty, what madness is this?"
He took step forward and caught her
wrists, for the girl swayed as though she
would have fallen; but she put him from
her with a strange strength, and stood
leaning against a tree, her face hidden by
her hands.
Madness? Jack, how did you bring
me here, oh tell me what has happened
the world seems to be whirling round
How did you get me out of that place of
norror?"
Recollection.
Rimingtons face twitched. Could it be
possible that the bridging rays between
Tie night in Tempest street a week ago
and tonight had slipped utterly out of her
,Io n,
only of the horror awakened in vain?
To Be Continued in Next Issue.