The Celina Democrat. (Celina, O. [Ohio]) 1895-1921, 1917-10-19

Aiy anu DcuT lle Inreuu OF IL I'LL III
your mind. For two acts you have
been asked to focus your attention
upon the increasing brutality of the
marquis. Remember that, won't your
mot likely to forget It," John re-
Piled "How well they all act!"
There was quarter Of an hours
interval before the curtain rose again.
RumOrs concerning the last act had
been floating about for weeks, and the
house was almost tense with excite
ment as the curtain went up. The
scene was the country chateau Of the
marquis de Guy" who brought a
noisy crowd of companions from Paris
without any warning. His wife showed
signs of dismay at his coming. He
had brought with him women whom
she declined to receive.
The great scene between her hus-
band and herself took place in the
sqGare hall Of the chateau, on the first
floor Louise reaffirms her intention
of leaving the house. Her husband
laughs ut her. Her position is hope
less.
what can you do?" he mocks.
She shrugs her SHOULDERS and passes
into her room. The marquis sinks upon
settee, and presently is Joined by
pne of the ladies' who have Travelled
l.Ith him from Paris. He talks to her
Of the pictures upon the wall. She is
Impatient to meet the Marquise de
Guy.
The marquis knocks at his wife's
door. Her voice Is heard clearly, after
moments pause.
"In few minutes !" she replies.
The marquis resumes his Irritation.
His companion becomes impatient
the marquis has pledged his word that
Fhe should be recei=ed by his wife. An
ancient enmity against the Marquise
de Guy prompts her to insist.
The marquis shrugs his shoulders
and knocks more loudly than ever at
his wife's door. She comes out dressed
for travel md is met by Faraday, who
suddenly appears.
"You asked me what I could do"
she says, pointing to her lover. "You
see HOw!"
There was a moments breathless 81
lence through the house. The scene in !
Itself was little beyond anything that
the audieTce had expected. Sophy, |
who had 0Aen leaning over the edge Of |
the box, surned around in no little |
anxiety. She heard the door slam. |
John had disappeared!
He left the theater with only his hat |
III his hand, turning up his coat by in
stlnct as he passed through the driving |
rain. All his senses seemed tingling |
with some nameless horror. The bril-
lance of the language, the subtlety of |
the situation, seemed like some evil
trail drawn across that one horrible
climax. 1t was Louise who had come
from that room and pointed to Fara-
dayl
He reached his rooms-he scarcely
knew how-and walked upstairs. There
lie threw off some of his dripping gar
ments, opened the window wide, and
stood there.
He looked out over the Thames, and
there was a red flare before his eyes.
Stephen was right, he told himself
Thele was nothing but evil to be found
here, nothing but bitter disappoint-
ment, nothing but the pain which Deep
ems into anguish. Better to remain
like Stephen, unlOving and unloveti, to
draw nearer to the mountains, to find
Joy in the crops and the rain and the
sunshine, to listen stonily to the cry
of human beings as if to some voice
from IN unknown world.
He leaned little further from the
window, and gazed into the court at
dizzy depth below. He had cut himself
adrift from the peace which might have
been his. He would never know again
the joys of his earlier life 1t was for
this that he had fought so many bat
ties, clung SO tightly to one ideal-for
Louise, who could show herself to any
one who cared to pay his shilling or
his half-guinea, glorying in her dis
honor; worse than glOrying In it-hnd-
Ing some subtle humor in the little ges-
ture With which she had pointed, un-
ashar1ed, to her lover.
;ohn bent a little lower from the
window. A sudden dizziness seemed
to have come over him, Then he was
forced to turn around. His door had
been quickly opened and shut. 1t was
Sophy who was crossing toward him,
the rain streaming from her ruined
opera cloak.
"Iohnr she cried. "Oh, Johnw
She led him back to his chair and |,
krclt by his side. She held his hands "
tightly.
"Ycu mustn't feel like this" she t
sobbe!; 'yOu mustn't, John, really o
You don't understand. It's all a play. S
Louise wouldn't really do anything like
thati" J
He shivere1. Nevertheless, he p
clutched her hands and drew her closer h
to him.
''Do, please, listen to me-" she a
begged. 'Tt's all over. Louise is her h
self agaln--Louise Maurel. The Mar
Quse de Guy never lived except upon &C
those Boards. 1t Is simply a wonderful N
creation. Any one Of the great ac- G
sresses would play that part and glory
oh n l.