The Bismarck tribune. [volume] (Bismarck, N.D.) 1916-current, 1917-07-30
what can you do?" he mocks.

what can you do?" he moclss.
She shrugs her shoulders and passes
into her room. The marquis sinks upon
settee, and presently is Joined by
one Of the ladies' who have Travelled
with him from Paris. He talks toshcr
of the pictures upon The wall. She IS
impatient to meet the Marquise' de
Guy. ~ ,s N
The marquis ,knnootcks at his wife's
door. Her voice, IS heard clearly, after
q moments pause.
"In few minutes !" she replies.
The marquis resumes his filtration.
His companion becomes timpatient-
THE marquis has pledged his word that
she should be received by his wife. An
ancient enmity against the Marquise
de Guy prompts her to insist.
The marquis sirugs his shoulders
and knocks more loudly than ever at
his wife's door. She comes out dressed
/, for travel and is met BY Faraday, who,
suddenly appears. Ia ~ Nv alofqt DC
''You asked me what could gdO,"i
she says, pointing to her lover. "You
see now!' r.
There was d moments breathless 81
lence through the house. The scene In
itself was little beyond anything that
the audience had expected. Sophy,
who had been leaning over the edge Of
the box. turned around in no little
anxiety. She heard the door slam.
John had disappeared {! i,
lie left the. theater with only his hat
in his hand, turning up his coat by in
stinct MS he passed through the driving
rain. All his senses. seemed tingling
with some namclcss horror. The brill
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-
day!
lie reached his rOGms-he scarcely
knew hOw--nnl walked upstairs. There
he threw off some Of his dripping gar
ments. opened the window wide, and
stood there. &.
He looked out over the Thames, and
there was red flare before his eyes.
Stephen was right. he told himself,
There was nothing but evil to be found
here. nothing but hitter .disappoint-
mcnt, nothing but the pain which deep
ems into anguish. Better to remain
like Stephen, mloving and unloved, 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 il to some voice
from an unknown world.
He leaned little further from the
window. and gazcd into the court at q
dizzy depth below. Tie had cut himself
adrift from the peace which might have
been his. He would never know. again
the joys Of his earlier life. It was for
this that he had fought so many bat
ties, chung 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-fnd
ing some subtle humor in the little ges-
ture with which she had pointed, un-
ashamed, to her lover.
John bent 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. It was
Sophy who was crossing toward him,
the rain streaming from her ruined
opera cloak.
"John!" she cried. ooh, John"
She led him back to his chair and
knelt by his side. She held his hands
tightly.
"You mustn't feel like this" she
sobbed; "you mustn't, John, really!
You don't understand. It's all a play.
Louise wouldn't really do anything like
thatw
r, He, shivered. Nevertheless, he
clutched her hands aud drew her closer
to. him. .,.-...---.-.--.,-. =