The Tacoma times. [volume] (Tacoma, Wash.) 1903-1949, 1914-06-17

Then just as his father was about
TO speak he turned and left the
room. Flavia, who had been sit
ting by listening and fighting back
the tears. followed him. He had
Iiung on coat and cap. and was
about to leave the house. He put
his arm about her. and she then
told him of Isabel's decision to go
south.
1T is best" he said after a
moment. You thought I'D mind,
other Fellow" he continued gem
thy. 1T took a bad shock TO cure
me OF Isabel, but I'm we'll. It's
Dest Tor her to go-Just as IL is
for me-"
And with that he left Flavia
10 go straight to Allan Gerard.
while Corrie was walking
through his five miles of desolate
dark road, Rupert was reading
aloud to his companion from a
classic found on the family book
shelf.
There had been many changes
In the little country parlor near
the Westbury Turn. For weeks
Rupert had played nurse there.
Dut now IL was a sick-room no
longer.
Don't you want to give me a
eigaretteR' Gerard interrupted
the reader
He was thinner and still color
less, otherwise there was little to
slow what the last month and a
half had meant to Allan Gerard
Except when he rose or moved,
the inert uselessness of his right
arm was not obvious.
Rupert balanced the volume
upon his knee and proceeded to
comply with the request.
Say, this type of literature
makes my thinks-motor feel as
l. molasses was being poured
into it for lubrieation-lt sticks"
Rupert observed between puffs.
will you take it hard IL / raise
my voice over the sporting page
OF the evening paper, instead?"
Gerard nodded consent, but
checked the reply on his lips.
listening. The outer door had
opened and closed, someone could
be heard speaking to the mistress
of the house.
"Corrie Rose!" he marveled.
Rupert stood up.
IN crank up and run out" he
observed nonchalantly. signal
| when you want me back"
There was no need of explana-
ton; since the day of the Mer-
crry's wreck, Rupert had never
voluntarily remained in the same
| room with Corrie or had ex-
changed speech with him. The
! two passed at the doorway now,
with a curt nod on the part of the
mechanician.
1t was not a heartening reeep-
tiCn, nor could Gerard's cordial
greeting lift the shadow of ii
| from Corrie's expression.
You ought to hate the sight
| of me worse than Rupert does"
he abruptly opened. "But-you
don't. l don't know why"
mo, I certainly do not" Ge-
rard confirmed, his grave eyes on
his guest.
Corrie rested one hand upon
| the narrow mantel. He still wore
his overcoat and held his cap, as
K prepared to accept dismissal.
Gerard" he said abruptly,
my father has sent me off. Oh,
not like that" as the other man
moved. startled. Il mean, he has
ted me to go away for a year or
two. anywhere I like, until people
| forget. I'm sent off to live alone
and have never been alone in my
life. I'm afraid of myself, sick,
afraid to be alone-take me with
you"
"Corie2"
Don't say no! II ought to kill
mo to look at you. Il almost does,
but it's worse away. Let me gol
where you are going, let me work
in your factory"
When, an hour later. the guest
rose to depart, Gerard detained
him for a final word.
"One thing before you go,
Gerard said 81 do not wish the
accident to the Mercury recalled
or discussed between us, ever.
Good night; l suppose you would
rather start with me, day after to-
morrow, than alone, later?"
Long afterward Gerard came to
remember that glance from Cor
rie's tired eyes.
Il cant think" confessed
Corrie Rose. I'm in too deep to
| find a way out. my head
yes, I'd rather start with you, IL
you will let me. Goodnight"
MI - tn ~v.kA,.