Omaha daily bee., 1919-03-05
CHAPTER Xiv.

To Andrew Forester. too, the
situation had grown intolerable
After the explanation with his wife
he had waited day by day for the
only decision it seemed possible that
she could make. ANY other-to 60
on living under the same roof when
they had come to recognize that they
had ceased to love each other-was
in his philosophy a spiritual slavery.
Yet the thought that she shrank
with pain from the decisive word
hurt him more than he could have
believed. He had loved her, she had
been part of his life; he could not
remain Indifferent to her That she
still hesitated, he ascribed not to
any vestige of affection for him, but
to a timidity before the censorship
of that world whose vassal she had
become. Each day in the mail he
looked eagerly for letter from her
that her decision had been made.
The suspense wore on him. AT times
he feared for his own strength, that
he could be tricked sentimentally
into a belief that he still loved her.
Then there was the other woman
to whom in his loyalty he felt bound
She had her right to happiness, too.
For never for one moment had he a
doubt that once Irma knew him free
TO act, she too would free herself
from the long horror in which she
had lived. Dellabarre's> condition had
become so shockingly apparent to
everyone that no action OF hers
could surprise. What wore on him
was that everything in his situation
was horribly false, the assumed at
titude before the world to Amy, the
mask he was forced to wear when
he offered his hand to Monte Brack-
en- or Rudolph Dellabarre, and last,
the prohibition Irma had placed on
their intimate meetings. Every day
that this masquerade continued it
seemed to him that all of them lost
something of their pride-were lit
tie soiled by ugly contact.
He arrived at Chiffon three days
after the yacht race. That night there
would be the weekly dance at the
yacht club, and he had come down
impatiently, knowing that at least,
he would have a chance of meeting
lrma Dellabarre. An hour after his
arrival Amy had said the words to
him that he had been waiting for,
and yet which struck him cold with
their suddenness. She had chosen
the moment when the porch was
gay with callers at the tea hour, to
leave her guests and signal him.
Little private consultation with
the head of the house," she said in
laughing explanation.
They went down the piazza and
turned the corner, where they were
hidden from the chatting and the
gossip which buzzed behind them.
I wanted to say to you, Andrew"
she said, without preliminaries,
that ! have come to your point of
view. have decided that there is
nothing else to do but to separate
and divorce. That is>what you wish,
isn't it?" :
He was taken aback by the sud
denness of her announcement. Why
had she chosen such a formal mo-
ment for so mortal thing? To steel
herself against crying out? To sur
round herself with the discipline of
the world-her world? That must be
it.
She repeated her question. LOOKING
up into his face.
eyes, that is what / WISH" he said
gravely. He felt embarrassed before
her calm. He added awlwardly,
Thank you" ......
1T is best for both-the only
thing. What l have decided to do
l will let you know later"
"When?" he asked graveiy.
Perhaps tomorrow" she said.
hesitating, "and perhaps sooner"
He looked at her, wondering, in
clined to question, restrained by a
feeling of generosity.
Il have been rather a failure with
you, Andrew" she said hurriedly,
and then stopped, a lump in her
throat. @a-.
"Don't" he said hastily. That's
ali too trivial now. Let's be gener-
ous-both of us-now."
Eyes, of course" She turned
away, started to speak, shook her
head; and he, seized with the cold
horror of seeing her tears, said hast
"Be careful, Amy-they're-they-
re here"
~ 49,