The Richmond palladium and sun-telegram. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1907-1939, 1916-02-10
Crawley frantically tears up the pictures of Zoe.

, let himself into his flat, and Hutton,
his man, met him in the hall, and
gave him some letters and kilograms,
which he tossed on to table, and
told Hutton to get him something to
eat. Then he went into his study and
flung himself dejectedly into his arm
chair before the newly-lighted fire.
1t was brilliant spring day day
of clouds and sunlight, day to re-
joice a painters heart. Crawley had
much work to do; but there was to
be no painting today. He had much
more serious business in hand.
He looked angrily at the clock-a
beautiful seventeenth century grand
fathers clock of exquisite manufac-
ture. He had only recently bought it
at Christie's.
Nearly two and a half hours be-
fofe she will be here" he muttered,
to himself. What, in the name of
goodness, am l to do in the mean
time?"
He rose impatiently and paced the
room. He stopped every now and
then at the window and looked out
terry works opposite. Then he went
iutO LILO SIuuiO I1O was lCctiCoS, II
ritable, and altogether upset. He
started absently picking up sketches
from bulky portfolio lying open on
the lounge seat in great bay win
dow at the corner.
Nearly every other sketch was
study Of Zoe-one head and should
ers; Zoe, full length; Zoe in hat and
furs; Zoe in ball dress; Zoes arms,
h. oh h,rc IN Two 10
pose and posture. Zoe draped and UNI
rodite," as Gree; Zoe as Sin" as
some of them; some finished, others
but rough impressionist sketches, or
careful studies of anatomical detail.
IF Brooke were to see those" he
groaned.
Crawley's eyes fell on large can
vas leaning against the wall.
1t was his first study in oils Of his
in his mind whether this one were not
indeed a superior picture Of the one
Leveredge and Maberley had bought
Of him for thousand guineas down.
AS he stared at it Brooke's words
rang in his ears. That was Brooke's
wife, the idol of his heart and life
that woman there, who sat shame
lessly surrounded by swine-the swine
that had once been men.
1t was a startling likeness. To
Crawley the woman vast the sorcer-
ess of Aeea, daughter of Sol and Per-
seis. who had made Ulysses forget his
glories in her arms. He had meant
to call his chef-d 'oeuvre "Sin."
With consummate skill he had
s,xAo H. vx-sv. n
wild abandon. She was "Circe." But
That lovely creature lying amidst her
swine was Mrs. Godfrey Brooke.
He stared at the picture with a
fresh and even more poignant horror.
If Brooke were. to see that?
And his "Circe" was not ALL There
was that lovely thing on the easel in
first looked like a beautiful copy of
Sleeping Venus" of Dres-
den-the perfect expression of god
was not so beautiful as |
Crawley's Sleeping Zoe" There she
was on his easel, lying there in SUBJ
that suggested happy dreams. There,
too, the likeness was perfect, for Zoe I
had needed no idealizing. She was
herself the type Of perfect beauty.
If Brooke were to see that.
He Destroys Each Of His Masterpieces
The thought maddened him into do
ng purely historical thing-a thing
which afterwards he regretted Calm
Y and deliberately he went about his
work of destruction. He started upon
he drawings, the delicate studies of