The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1920-10-01
Dramatic Film Story of AdDen- :.
ture, SeH-Sacrifce and LOue
The Restless Sex
A Romantic Film Drama Win
MARION DA VIES
BY Robert w. Chambers.

(Csati.seA sre. Yesterday
"some bandit Of the back woods.
some wilderness fur trader or ruth
less forest runner-with murder on
his soul, perhaps. 1 don't remember
now. But my father made a note
OF the story"
She read the struggling lines
again, slowly:
But for ye sunne no one would heed
A senseiess Stone;
But for ye sunne no one could rede Ne
and my comrade sunne. together.
Print here ye hours
In praise OF Love and pleasant weather
And Youth and flowers"
A POETS SOUL.
"How odd and quaint" she
mused, and what struggling.
primitive, illiterate letters these
are, chiselled here in this black
basalt Fancy that gsunt, grim,
buck kinned runner emerging from
the wilderness into this solitary
settlement. finding shelter and re-
freshment: and. in his brief. hour
OF rest and idleness, labouring to
leave his record on this old stone!"
His was q poets soul" said Gle
land, but he probably took an
Iroquois scalp when unobserved.
and skinned living and dead I'M
partially in his fur transactions"
"Some degenerate son of honest
English. stock. 1 suppose" nodded
Helen. '"Yet, he had the simplicity
OF the Cavalier verse-makers in his
gracious heart Well. for
his sake"
She laid a June rose on. the
weather-ravaged dial. God rest
There's a devil in every one of u.s."
? Not in you. darling" cooed
. Stephanie, enlacing her waist If
, there ever was. he's dead"
81 wonder" O.. She glanced
deliberately at Cleland, then smiled:
: There was bully romance
read in extreme youth. In which an
old swashbuckler was always ex-
claiming: Courage! The devil is
/ dead" And since I have realized
that I, also. .harboured a devil, the
memory of that CHEEKY war-cry al
ways puts me on my mettle to slay
him. It's a good fight, jim"
she added, serenely. But a really
good fight Is never finished. you
Z know And it's better to end the
story with. so they lived to fight
happily ever after than to an
nounce that the problem is solved.
the romance ended for eternity"
In the pink dusk she picked her
. way over the dewy grass toward
the porch. saying carelessly that
= her ancient bones resented damp
ness. a'
Stephanie. resting against the
sun-dial. inhaled the sweetness OF
the iris and spoke of it.
1.-The flowers are liIac-grey, like
your eyes," he said. 1.-THE scent ex-
presses you to me-faintly sweet
a young. fresh. delicate odour-you
in terms Of perfume"
MIND BUSY WITH IMPRINTS.
such a poet! But you
know one never should touch the
petals of an iris. The indis-
Greet imprint remains"
Have i left any Imprint
81 should say you had! Do you
suppose my mind isn't busy most of
the time remembering your-im-
prints?'
us it?"
Does it comfort you to know Il?
Nobody else ever paved me-"
"a nice way to put it," he re-
marked.
She shrugged.
Il don't know how II was I first
permitted it-came to endure It"
She lifted her gray eyes deliberate
ly, invited it because /
came to expect it-wish for It"
She bit her lip and made a quick
gesture with clenched hand. "Oh,
Jim, I'm no good! Here l am mar
ried, and as nonchalantly unfaithful
to my vows as you care to mako
me"
She turned abruptly and walked
across the lawn toward the willows
that fringed the stream, moving
leisurely. pensivcly, her hands
linked behind her back. He re-
Joined her at the willows and they
slowly entered the misty belt of
trees together.
IF you knew" she said, what .
futile, irresolute. irresponsible crea-
turc l am, you wouldn't waste real
love on me. There's nothing to me
except feminine restlessness, mental
and physical, and it urges, urges,
urges me to wander frivolously in
pursuit of God knows what
don'tt But always my mind is
traveller impatient to go a-gypsy-
ing. and my feet beat the devils
tattoo"
She spranR from the pebbles to
fat river stone projecting from the