The Tomahawk., 1918-01-10

beating in hcr brain was too insistent,
too clamorous. Somewhere beyond
that tangled mass of chimneys and
telegraph poles, somewhere on the 9th
er side of the gray haze which hung
about the myriad roofs, John and
Louise were working out their destiny,
speaking at last the naked truth to
each other.
She started suddenly back into the
room. There was a knocking at the
door, something quite different from
her landlady's summons. She wrapped
her dressing-gown around her, pulled
the curtains around the little bed on
which she had striven to rest, and
moved toward the door. She turned
the handle softly.
"Who is that?" she asked.
John almost pushed his way past
her. She closed the door with nerve
less fingers. Her eyes sought his face
her lips were parted. She clung to the
back Of the chair.
"You have seen Louise?" she ex-
claimed breathlessly.
II have seen Louise" he answered.
''It is all over"
She looked a little helplessly around
her. Then she selected the one chair
in the tiny apartment that was likely
to hold him, and led him to it.
"Please sit down." she begged, "and
tell me about it. You mustn't despair
like this all at once. I wonder if I
could help!"
mo one can help" he told her grim
ly. 1T is all finished and done with.
I would rather not talk any more about
it.. I didn't come here to talk about
it. I came to see you. So this is
where you live!"
He looked around him, and for a mo-
ment he almost forgot the pain which
was gnawing at his heart. 1t was such
a simple, plainly furnished little room,
so clean, so neat, so pathetically elo-
quent of poverty. She drew closer to-
gether the curtains which concealed
the little chints-covered bed, and came
and sat down by his side.
She clasped her hands tighter
around his arm. Her eyes sought his
anxiously.
"But you mustn't climb down, John"
she insisted. "You are so much nicer
where you are, so much too good for the
silly, ugly things. You must fight this
in your own way, fight it according to
your own standards. You are too good
to come down."
"Am I too good for you, sophy?"
She looked at him, and her whole
face seemed to soften. The light In
her blue eyes was sweet and wistful.
A bewildering little smile curled her
lips.
'Don't be stupid!" she begged. "A
few minutes ago was looking out OF
my window and thinking what poor
little morsel Of humanity am, and
what useless, drifting life have led.
But that's foolish. Come nowl What
I want to persuade you to do is to
20 back to Cumberland for a time,
and try hard-very hard indeed-to
realize what 1t means to be woman
like Louise, with her temperament,
her intense intellectual curiosity, her
charm. Nothing could make Louise
different from what she is-a dear,
sweet woman and great artist. And,
John, I believe she loves you"
Fs1s face remained undisturbed even
by the flicker Of an eyelid.
"Sophy," he said, II have decided
to go abroad. Will you come with
met"
She sat quite still. Again her face
was momentarily transformed. All It's
pallor and fatigue seemed to have van
ished. Her head had fallen little back.
She was looking through the ceiling
into heaven. Then the light died away
almost as quickly as it had come. Her
lips shook tremulously.
"You know you don't mean 1t, John
You wouldn't take me. And If you did,
you'd hate me afterward-you'd want
to send me back!"'
He suddenly drew her to him, his
arm went around her waist. She had
lost all power Of resistance. For the
first time In his life Of his own delib-
crate accord, he kissed her-feverish-
ly, almost roughly.
"Sophy," he declared, II have been a
fooll I have come an awful cropper,
but you might help me with what's
left. I am going to start afresh. I
am going to get rid Of some Of these
ideas of mine which have brought me
nothing but misery and disappoint-
ment. I don't want to live up to them
any longer. I want to just forget
them. I want to live as other men
live-just the simple, ordinary life.
Come with me! I'll take you to the
places we've talked about together. 1
am always happy and contented with
you. Let's try I'll"
Her arms stole around his neck.
"John," she whispered, hiding her
face for a moment. "What can I say?
What could any poor, weak little crea-
ture like me say7 You know I am
fond Of you'll haven't had the pride,
even, to conceal itl'