Atlanta Georgian. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, 1914-02-01


spite Of the lateness of the hour, Chandler
was still debating, rewriting one of the already
finished chapters of his book. He walked I'D
- and down, restlessly, from the Bokhara be-
side the desk to the little rough Anatoia mat
and back, and over again, failing now and
then for word then driving on so rapidly that
Emmys flying fingers could scarcely keep up with
him. This had been going steadily for three
hours and she was tired Had it not been for
Chambers anxiety to finish she would have begged
for rest, but he was going away the next day.
She watched the man in his intervals of profound
thought and seemed to her that never before had
he powerfully attracted her She longed to throw
down her notebook and fling her arms about his
neck. When he looked at her. her heart seemed to
beat faster almost she felt that he must notice her
agitation Then she realized that his eyes were un-
seeing; that though they swept her face and figure,
in its SOFT Clinging dress, they saw nothing
He began again, and she dropped her eyes to the
book before her. She heard him saying
"The woman who denies the existence within her.
self of the desire for the opposite SEX who denies that
she has many times wished that some member of it
and not necessarily always the same member
might pursue and possess her. either lies devoid
of those instincts which of necessity go to make up
the perfect woman" Emmy took down the words
with flushed cheeks. How deeply this man seemed
to understand women Or at least, herself She, at
this moment desired him; something within her beat
upon her throbbing temples, burnt in her hot cheeks
something that called to him to take her. crush her to
him. bend her to his will She tried to down the feel
ing for it made her afraid buttpossessed her utterly
She shivered although she did not feel cold.
Chanler, wrapt in his subject, observed nothing
of all this She bent her head to avoid his eyes,
fearful lest he should discover her secret inwardly
hoping that he might
He tossed his haf-smoked cigarette into the fire
place and again rose. "That's all. Mark it End
of Part One" he said "What do you think of it?"
She did not reply. What could she say to such
question? The truth? How could she tell him the
truth? Yet they had agreed never to lie to each
other.
"Come" He stepped toward her with
interest. "You are a woman-a young and vital
woman Tell me the real truth. Women are taught
to up their instincts, to regard them wrong,
wicked. You tell me the truth. Tell me what
women really think and feel"
She turned away, with shver, as his eyes met
hers. That he should ask her this question
"Tel me-" he pressed her "You know you
promised always to tell me the truth" 1t was
PROMISE laughngly made, in the course of an argu-
ment some weeks before.
Emmy began to speak, but her words trailed off
into dismal, meaning less confusion She sank into
chair, and, leaning her face on her arms out-thrown
on the desk, began to sob, Historically. The emo
tons with which she had thought to play had risen
up to smite her.
Chanler stopped in his pacing up and down and
gazed at her heaving shoulders in establishment
"What on earth is the natter Emmy?" he asked
tenderly. "I-I didn't suppose you'd mind my
asking you thing like that We've always talked
so frankly Of course, you needn't answer me IT
you'd rather not" He leaned over, and taking her
wrists in his hands, drew her to her feet