Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1915-08-05
WHO is she?"

|
"Listen, Grace" he said, 'T've gol
to talk to some one. You have come
here so you let yourself in for 1t. Ter
years ago / was reporting on paper
! for few dollars week. 1t was q
long way from Broadway. There was
n dusty typewriter and dirty walls
decorated with yellowed clippings
but-there was wild, young ambition
and all my life ahead. That was liv.
| ing"
"Who was she?" insistently repeat.
| ed the actress, when he paused.
''What can it matter how big a
| play one writes" demanded the au-
| thor. IF he presents it to an empty
house? The absence Of one woman
can make any house empty for any
man. I'd give it all, to hear her say
once more"
He broke off in abrupt silence.
ITO hear her say what, Bobby?"
prompted Grace Bristol, softly.
"Well," he answered, with a misera-
BILE laugh" something she used to
say"
81 suppose, Bobby"-the girl spoke
very slowly-I suppose it wouldn't
do any good TOTO hear any one else
say it?"
He shook his head.
"Do you remember, Grace" he went
on, "the other evening, when we were
sitting in the cafe at the Lorillard and
the orchestra in another room was
playing Whispering Angeles? The
hundred noises of the place almost
drowned it out, yet we were always
straining our ears to catch the music
and when there came a momentary
lull, it would swell up over everything
else.
There's how it is with this-and
sometimes it sweels up and slugs
one-simply slugs one, that's ALL" He
broke off and laughed again. 81 guess
Pm talking no end of rot. You PROB.
ably don't understand"
She raised her face and spoke with
dignity.
Hs uOil QituSiSIdliup DOuDy
Because Pm show girl?"
lIy 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 ro
sponded
It seemed inconccivable that Max
well should miss the note of bitter
misery in her voice; yet, blinded by
his own 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 shirt that
he had left tumbled.
She carefully folded it, then, with
a surreptitious glance over her shoul.
der to make sure that she was not
observed, she tore rose from her
belt and, holding it for an impulsive
moment against her breast, dropped
| 1t into the bag.
My face was ayerted, but through
mirror | saw the pitiful pantomime
When he returned 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, "it's
good to know that from this time on
you are star"
She laughed.
Eyes, isn't it?" she answered. T'n,
real ash-trash now. No-don't both
er to see me down. Mr. Dcprayne 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:
"Oh, you Galahad"
But her eyes were swimming with
tears.
AS I climbed the creaking stairs
again, / was pondering the question
of contentment. Here were three OF
us.
One had raked success out or 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. ! myself
had been preserved from Gambia
fesh-pots. All of us were deeply mis-
cradle.
wondered IL tho fourth was happy
the woman who had once said tc
Maxwell the things he now longed tt
hear?
/ found him gazing Off with far