The Bottineau courant. (Bottineau, Bottineau County, N.D.) 1895-1929, 1915-12-02

can make n mousse empty LOT any
man. I'd give it all, to hear her say
once more"
He broke of in abrupt silence.
"To hear her say what, Bobby? 2"
prompted Grace Bristol, softly.
"Well," he answered, with a misera-
BILE laugh" something she used to
say"
Il suppose, Bobby"-the girl spoke
very slowly-"I suppose it wouldn't
do any good to--to hear any one else
say it,"
He shook his head.
"Do you remember, Grace" he went
on, "the other evening, when WI were
sitting in the cafe at the Lorillard and
the orchestra in another room was
playing whispering Angeles? Tho
hundred noises of the place almost
drowned it out, yet we were always
straining our ears to catch the music
and when there came q momentary
lull, it would swell up over everything
else.
There's how Il is with this-and
sometimes It sweets up and slugs
one-simply slugs one, that's ALL" He
broke of and laughed again. II guess
I'm talking nc end Of rot. You prob.
ably don't understand"
She raised her face and spoke with
dignity.
"Why don't I understand, Bobby.
Because I'm a show girl?"
My old friends voice was contrite
in its quick apology.
Forgive me Grace-of course I
didn't mean that. You're the clever
est woman on Broadway"
She laughed. I'm said to be
quite an emotional ash-trash," she re
sponded.
It seemed ~inconceivable that Max.
we'll should miss the note of bitter
misery in her voice; yet, blinded by
his W quarrel with fate, he passed
into the next room oblivious Of all
else.
She crossed to the table which lay
Uttered with the confusion of his un-
tidy packing, and took up a shirt that
he had left tumbled.
She carefully folded it, then, with
a surreptitious glance over her shout
der to make sure that she was not
observed, she tore a rose from her
belt and, holding it for an impulsive
moment against her breast, dropped
it into the bag.
My face was averted, but through
a mirror l saw the pitiful pantomime
When he returned a few minutes later
his bag was ready and she was gaz-
ing off through the window, with her
face averted. At last she turned back
to the room and took up her hat.
She lifted it to her head as though
it was very heavy, and her arms very
tired.
81 guess, Bobby, I'll be running
along" she announced.
Grace" he said earnestly, cts
good to know that from this time on
you are a star"
She laughed.
eyes, isn't it," she answered.. "I'm
a real ash-trash now. No-don't both
er to see me down. Mr.. Deprayne will
put me into the taxi"
Outside the threshold she paused
to thrust her head back into the room,
and to laugh gaily as she shouted in
the slang of the street:
ooh, you Galahad!"
But her eyes we're swimming with
tears.
AS I climbed the creaking stairs
again, I was bordering the question
of contentment. Here were three of
us.
One had raked success out OF the
fire of failure and had written what
promised to be the seasons dramatic
sensation. One had earned the right
to read her name, nightly, in Broad
ways incandescent roster. I myself
had been preserved from cannibal
fesh-pots. All of us were deeply mis-
cradle.
I wondered If the fourth was happy
the woman who had once said to
Maxwell the things he now longed to
hear?
I found him gazing of with . far
away Renaissance which was mostly
pain. The taxi was whirring under
the arch, but he had already forgotten
it's occupant.
do you want to unbosom yourself,
Bobby" I questioned.
He shook his head.
ITO you?" he inquired with a smile.
You're a woman hater."
But a moment later he came over
and laid his hand a~ffectionately on
my shoulder, fearing he had offended
me.
II guess, old man." he explained,
there's no balm in post-mortems. l
loved her, that's all, and I still do"
"She married?" I inquired.
"She is now Mrs. William Clay
Weighborne, of Lexington. It's a pref.
tier name than Fanny Maxwell--and
loolyc hattar IN q chack was n,1m-