The Washington times., 1914-01-02

brought up suddenly face to face
with something vital. He had be-
Ieved himself to be clasping love TO
his heart, and suddenly love had
changed to the grim figure of death
grinning up into his face. Death in the
abstract needs great deal of courage
TO face, but when it takes on a personal
and terribly intimate aspect a man
must either bend or break.
The consideration of death had never
come TO Eyerard until now. Until this
moment he had never been pulled up
and made to think by hearing that
some one he knew had died.
But now, with hideous unfairneSs,
with no warning, no time to allow him
10 prepare himself FOR the inevitable,
acquaintance, but the one being in all
the world who had ever found a way
10 his heart.
The suddenness of it all had made the
shock a million times greater. 1t
nUmbed his brain. The journey back to
London had been made mechanically:
He had gone ashore at Folkestone and
into the train and through the customs
At Charing Cross without knowing it,
and finally got out of the taxi which
he were fuddled with drink.
He had gone straight upstairs to his
room by pure instinct, without having
realized that he was home again. Still
al uAE ONGltOol7 ".llCu llC ldu "OiA III
the taxi, although il was very hot, he
went across to the window and stood
leaning on the sill, countless lights be-
meath him moving and stationary.
servant brought in his luggage. With
out turning rouTr1, Everard spoke in
French.
Il beg your pardon. sir?'' look of
Ouzzled amusement was not very SUE
acssfuIly hidden by the man.
The quite ordinary sentence, pro-
vrrFfF q had q
most extraordinary effect upon Ever
ard Something seeInd to snap in his
',rain. as if a spring had been released
and the tension had all gone out of it.
de stood. trembling violently.
The door closed behind the servant.
His head went down upon his arms.
4 choking cry bcOke from him: ''TOi-
Rette! Toinette! Oh, God!''
Great sobs shook his whole body. He
mad killed her. He staggered from the
-Eindow. threw himself upon the bed
and buried his face in the pillow in an
&gony of remorse. II was useless to call
.Toinette.
Everard turned the key in the lock
and solwly got out of his clothes
There was a tiny bathroom out of his
bedroom, and. once he shut himself in,
ae was like a hermit cut of from the
world. He never went into the other
oart of the hoUSe unless requested 10 do
30 by his father or mother.
He had made the bedroom his own
territory, and had fitted il up just as he
liked. There were long, low Oxford
,.hairs, quantities Of books, one or two
,7lIaint bits of china, several reprOduc-
ions of drawings by Sine, and on the
mantelpiece group of photographs.
none of them mems. On 4 table by the
red were pipes. tobacco, cigarettes,
matches and an electric reading lamp.
The sound of water filling the bath
-slne from the next room. He lit a
cigarette and glanced arouad. The books
and pictures and photographs looked
down upon him as If he had never been
away. The subdued murmur of the tTaf-
&C in the square below came through
the window. as ii had been going - all
the time and would go on forever.
though earthquakes happened across the
narrow channel. Nothing seemed to
make any difference. Things just went
The bath was ready He slipped in
C-iih sign of relief and lay soaking.
Finally he dried himself. put on dress
iag gown, combed his hair, filled and lit
a pipe. and looked around the room
Egaln.
His hands wandered along the backs
Of the books hOvered over kim,
pGssed Mason. Locke, and Du MaurleF:
Iand then dropped heavily as it touched
De MaCpasSGnt.
He sat down in an armchair. The TALL
SaGed. and he saw a little white room
with a crucifix and a picture OF the Ma
t.Onna and a great fat man with (WHICH
ing hands crumplcd up beside a white
bed. And there on the bed Toinette,
cold. her hands crossed reverently on
her breast and a piece OF seageed dan
Cling from her shoe buckle.
Eye-ard shivered and pressed a nand
over his eyes. IT was useless. The hand
fell Imply away and he sat, his chin
o.. his chest. gazing blankly-thinking |
thinking. He went over the whoe thing
again and again; his arrival and his
dismay at the empty prospect before |
him. He saw Marthe and Jeanne smok- |
tng on the patch of grass: he heard |
Toinette's little love-song coming nearer |
and nearer along the road in the dim |
light. |
Every detail of her-eYery look and |
gesture and expression came back to |
him. The adorable hours in the sand |
dunes, the feel of her when he held her
tiEht-Godi what would he not give to