The Birmingham age-herald., 1916-06-11

IT q hate divorce cases" she said V%INN "I never read about them. They're
 " sordid, dreary thngs!'
 You don't remember" said
 Mona You've forgotten who Good win Clays wife is haven't you-Dora Martyn"'
 Dora Martyn!" said Mary, sitting up sud denly. Did she marry that beast? don't won der she's had to divorce hm!'
 "But-its he that is bringing the suit :" said Mona.
 thing Poor little Dora-she never did anything that wasn't right in her life-except to marry like that,"
 "What was she to do?" asked Mona, bitterly. Except marry him-and be glad of the chance. She like us-she struggling along try ing to make both ends meet-and having con stant fight. She chose marriage. We chose to strike out for ourselves
 And she's come to a horror like this :" said Mary. "She did what nine. people out of ten would have done-and this is how she is paid. Oh, Mona-I don't care if we have had to use our brains, if we've had to trick a few men who thought they were going to trick us, we've done a wiser thing than she
 Let's go to the trial,' answered Mona. Maybe punish the beast"
 Neither of them were anxious to be recog nized in the courtroom. They did not care, for one thing, to be classed with the morbidminded women who attracted by such this, and, while there only faint chance that NIT. Clay would remember them, they felt that it might be well to eliminate that possi bilitv. There plan in their minds; they simply wanted to leave their hands free if it turned out that there a chance for them to interfere, perhaps to punish Clay perhaps to the wife he intended to treat cruelty. Not for moment would either of them believe that she could have done anything to justify the mire of the divorce court.
 So, to avoid recognition both Mary and Mona were heavily yelled. They sat in the back of the room, and they listened, with growing disgust, to Clay's hypocritical denunciation of the woman who had "wronged" him, and to the sorry batch of witnesses he had gathered in support of his charges.
 The chief of these character as mo- torious, in his way, Goodwin Clay himself, one Jake Mnter, proprietor of a roadhouse of the most dubious sort. This Minter, as both the girls knew, was hand in glove with certain crooked politicians and had been mixed up, often in shady affairs. His political pull had saved him than once. And both girls were convinced that he perjuring himself now as he reeled off his carefully prepared story, which roborated by men in his employ.
 Lies, lies,' whispered Mary. "But Clay will get his divorce. Unless it be proved that Minter is lying, the case against her is deadly!"
 The event proved that Mary was right. Winters testimony could not be shaken by the defense Clays divorce was granted; his wife, dsgraced, was left, dependent upon her own efforts since Clay, with refinement of Ineanness refused absolutely to make any pro- vision for her. She had disgraced herself he said; let her drink the dregs of the glass she had poured out for herself! But of course Clay didn't FuOW IOnd dHu NldTys HOT ulu Hc KNOW uudU they had decided to right the wrong he had done, or he might have been considerate.
 The two girls, in their natural incarnation, looked like fashionable girls. unlimited when it came to the satisfaction of their desire to look we'll. But that night, when they drove, in taxi cab, to fiashy restaurant, where they knew Clay generally went, in the heart of the white light district, they had contrived somewhat, to cheapen themselves. They fitted in with the place where they dned they looked like the women who thronged the place. And yet, there was diff ference. They could not, indeed they had not tried, to conceal their charms.
 It was Mary who took the lead; Mary who was, it appeared, decidedly particular to the location of their table, She was matter of fact, looking for Clay. And at last she spied him, playing host to a small and select pany of men, at table that commanded per- feet view of the cabaret stage. And, what was more important, she that there was small ment unoccupied
 'We,l take this table" she said.
 There difficulty about it. Mary was stranger in that place, but they hoped, and believed that that would be changed. She and her friend, it was obvious, were the sort of patrons the proprietor liked to see.
 Well, there he isl" said Mary. "Listen to him! He's celebrating his freedom, suppose. He has money--that's why those are with him. Look at them! If he lost his money they'd cross the street to avoid him!'
 The two girls, with deliberate intention, had seated themselves so that they were screened from Clay's view, though they themselves could . him plainly. And Mary, studying him atten- lively, grew and more bitter, more and determined to punish him.
 "Mona--you'd better go!" she said, suddenly. five made up my mind. You have got to do your part-but to begin with I've got to work alone. I'm going to make him over here after you've gone"
 Are you sure it's safe?" said Mona, doubt fully. T hate to have you any risk with that monster, Nary"
 I'm not going to any risk" said Mary, impatiently. If you're bound to worry, worry about him! He's more in need of sympathy than am.'
 And so. reluctantly, Mona left Mary alone at the table. At once Mary changed her seat she saw with a smile of satisfaction, that Clay noticed her at once. He leaned over to one of his companions, who turned at and stared frankly at her. He nodded in solemn approval, aud said something, at which Clay and the rest of the at his table roared.
 Clay at began to play the game of filtration. He was direct, not subtle in his methods; it was plain that he believed that any woman he deigned to notice must be delighted by the honor he paid her. Mary pretended not to notice him at first; finally, however, she smiled. and nodded faintly. Clay rose at once, and came over to her table. Mary waiter smile, knowingly, but there was nothing unusual, in that place, about Clay's action.