The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1918-10-20

tati0B, IN Kill myself. can't live
without you. ! know | can't, be-
cause I've tried"
Back IN the restaurant some one
laughed nerVOusly. A waiter drop
ped his metal tray with a clang
upon the tssssIlated mosaic floor.
The episode had gone far beyond
the Eugene Walter level, and was
headed for q Pinero finish.
The smoke from Mr.. Maltbie's
smouldering cigar blew in her face
For a moment she closed her eyes.
In that moment she saw the woman
she might endeavor to be. II she had
but a chance. That chance was
being offered her now. It might
not come again. A play for happl-
ness, decency and love. But at
whose expense? She put the ques-
ton to herself sharply. At the ex-
pense Of q man who had treated
her as men treat the other kind Of
women, the kind they usually
marry. Then she opened her eyes
upon the woman she felt she was,
a false jewel in an even falser set
ting. She told herself, as such
women do, that her kind are not
born again.
Il mean just what I said," John
was saying. 'If you won't come,
I'll kill myself. I love you. What
is more, ! believe in you. And al
though everything points the other
way, I feel that you love me. / dis
covered this fact in the depot that
day you left Paris. ! find nothing
to disprove II now. So, for the third
time, win you Gomez"
Nothing doing" said Miss Win
ton, with visible effort. And don't
pull on any Of that Madame X
stuff around here. II don't go on
the stage. especially in New York.
It's only silly"
"Your answer is final?" asked
John.
Dottye grasped the edge OF the
table to steady herself preparatory
to her grand finale. She had almost
forgotten both NaZimova and Stella
Mayhem now and was two-thirds a
woman, doing what she thought was
for the best. Her face was as pale
as a Coney Island dawn.
your answer is final?" repeated
Mr.. Parkins, His voice was cold
and grey, for hope had somehow
fed.
Sure" she said.
Then John PaFkins rose to the
dramatic heights called for by the
occasion. He did the deed that put
Dottye in the headliner class for
life. A real, third-act, thirty-two-
calibre revolver shot brought the
hypnotized gathering to its feet.
The young man from Idaho tumbled
upon the Uttered table, upsetting a
bottle Of champagne, several
glasses and ali Of Dottye's deep
laid plans.
In the moment following amid
the banging of doors, the voices OF
men and the shrieks of women,
Dottye stopped over, before all the
gaping crowd, and kissed the fore
head under the rumpled unkempt
hair.
Dear God" she cried aloud,
why couldn't you let me do Just
one half-decent thing? l loved him
so, oh Cod / loved him So"
The busy Understanding to the
High Gods sat with the ledger Of
Life and Death open at Dottye's
page, in section number fourteen,
devoted to drama He moved his
troubled gaze from the earthly
tumult Of the Cafe de Ia Paix.
where a man lay dead, to the IN
earthly quietude of the swirling,
rain-washed milky way: For a
while he did not write. Then pick
ing up the Golden Rule. he slashed
a crimson line across the credit
side. This for the present, balanced
her account. Then, taking his halo
from a jasper peg, he started for q
nearby lunchroom where he could
procure an ambrosia sandwich and
a cup of heavenly coffee.
(Copyrfght. Short Story Pub Col