New Mexico state record. (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1914-19??, 1920-12-24

II \Sst( I'll duu Willy -uiily, size luu 10 create IL
IIS@T as the Big Man, her
TN husband, decreed. The part fitted
lCaO:)J her like a glove. And the Big Man
made her murder il,
once. he had taught her. In her ignorance she
had married him So that he might teach her. Now
she had got beyond his teaching, and he did not
know 1t. In his vanity he thought he had made"
her, He lived, fattened on that, thrived on the
reflected glory of her art, and ghoullike On the
woman herself.
There was no escape for her from his exactions
OF this piece. The author was abroad. in i'll
heaith, so he could not be present at rehearsals.
Moreover, because this was his first play, the Big
Man took liberties with It as might n theatrical
celebrity.
This one rehearsed his wife with the assldu-
iy OF an animal trainer, bullying her before the
whole company until they Uttered and then grew
silent with sympathy.
The Big Man came into the room noisily. He
was always called the Big Man. The name fitted
MN. lie was big in physique and IN self sufi-
cheney His face still showed signs of exaspera-
ton.
Rotten. Simply rotten % he threw Mt her, strld-
Ing up and down. Five years Of drilling things
into you, and you're as dense as when | married
YOU You queer the business, you slur your lines.
iou-you haven't an ounce Of the real stuff In YOU.
Don't look at me with that martyred expression
Ia get rid of you If w didn't have to open on
New Years Eve. Now, look here, wen go through
that business In Act III again, right here, now, unit!
you get 1t rlght-lmy way-see? What's the cue?
| can't ask you to sacrifice yourself. Tile
takes her In his arms). Come on :"
Inc BE Mans temper was smarting under a
recent newspaper criticism In which it was sug-
gested that in his next production he should give
premier plnce to his wife. He specially resented
the advice, because the writer limited that the
Big Man, dramatically speaking, did not count.
Come on he repeated.
NO"
He stared AZ her. She had never disobeycd him
before. 1t nearly staggered him.
I'm too tired tonight. Besides, I don't agree
that the scene should be played your way. That
was not the authors intention"
He took her by the wrist. "By cad. youll he
saying the play was written for you next ="
Ii had been. The author had seen her on the
stage once. lie had p%urposely written his play
round her, because her personality hud impressed
him. The Leading Woman did not know this.
Neither did the Big Man.
You've got 10 do what | tell you. If you're
tired, what about meg"
Rather than argue, she gave in. 1t wasn't
worth h-arSulng with a man who could only rea-
son like n woman. The worst of 1t was, she could
see through him now. She knew he was Jealous.
She knew he took n perycrse pleasure In trying
30 queer her business" She was perfectly well
aware that could he have dispensed with her, he
would have done so: only box-oiice receipts had
been so good since he had starred her. After he had
gone, the Leading Woman turned the key in The
lock. There was always one way by which she
could secure Oblivion of her mental sufferings Not
by morphia, or drink, but by letters. \ score of
them, written by her. sealed but not addressed,
lay In a locked drawer OF her escrltoire. She did
not even know the man who. in them. she in
voked. Her eyes had never seen him. To write
thus was one of those queer feminine impulses
that women who suffer give way to in order to
save their hearts from breaking. They were the
only love-letters She had ever written to n man.
She took up her pen now, striving for calmness
while writing 10 her Unknown:
ooh, my dear. I am so terribly sad. and | en-
SO lonely that | feel like n little child crying in
the dark 1t can't 20 on. I can't bear 1t
much longer. Sometimes in my agony | have told
myself to do rs other women do, to be worldly,
yenal. Ia laugh and console myself with the first
likely man who comes my way. Pride stops me.
and my deep regard for you, Unknown. Shall |
ever see you? VIII you ever become real, my
idcait Shall ] never know what love is? For now
my heart is virgin.
think Of It. Half-of-My Soul, wherever you are!
] am "A wife. And | have never known what 1t Is
to love, except intangibly, as l love you. That is
my punishment for having married without re-
Election. Beloved, | was such a child, and thought
nothing mattered except my art.
sometimes, when | first began TO write TO you,
! used to ask myself what would hap
pen should | ever meet you? / know. as | know
still, that I should recognize you, and at once.
/ used to think of myself as ever bent TO the Big
Mans will. But | know now that this would not
be right. He has so long forfeited my loyalty. All
that is best In me belongs TO you, whoever and
wherever you are. | could not keep away If you
needed me. And | am a religious woman.
A this life / am living is wrong, unnatural.
Surely it can't 90 on. ! am twenty-six-oh. dear
only twenty-six and there is nothing left to
but work. And in work / cannot forget
because It Is emotional.
Il am going 10 write a little prayer here. I have
prayed il waking and in my dreams. l send 1t
on the wings of my spirit, this petition of
my soul. that somewhere and sometime l may see
you. know you, II only once a face In the
crowd"
She was strung up and she covered pages, CIV
Ing her emotions full play. To a woman of acute
there is something very convincing In
the idea of a soulmatc. 1t was that Leading
Woman's consolation and her beacon of hope.
During the following weeks while the new play