The Concordia sentinel. (Vidalia, Concordia Parish, La.) 1882-current, 1920-01-17

said Andrea.
Each has little to do" said the
man. "He must do it well. That, in
cidentally, is the secret of getting
satisfactory work out of an African"
SIS it?" said Andrea absently. 1--WE
always heard they were q shiftless
lot and that white man could do the
work of ten niggers."
$50 he can, ordinarily" answered
the man, almost as absently. 'but
there are times when ten boys picked
hoys'-" He stopped as if he were
lest in some far Renaissance.
A silence fell to the end of the meal,
which conceded with the sudden end
of the trOpic day.
The man spoke to the servants for
the first time. They cleared the
table, set it again with glasses and
liqueurs, cigars, cigarettes and coffee,
and moved it slightly to one side.
Then, from the nearby hut, they
brought out two cushioned wicker
chairs, homemade but comfortable
Andrea sank into hers with a peculiar
feeling of well-being mixed with sus-
pense. The man sat down opposite
her, the table within easy reach of both
but not between them. Something
swayed with jerk above their heads.
Andrea, startled, looked up just in time
to see an enormous white disk unroll
from its edges, letting fall in a circle
around them a snowy mesh Of bob
binet.
They, and all they needed for COM
fort, became enclosed In ian insect
proof cage that swayed softly TO the
evening stir Of air. The servants
weighted down its edges with fiat
stones and then lit two acetylene
lamps that stood outside on stands
placed at right angles to the couple
within the net so that the eyes of both
were spared the glare.
The man poured coffee and liqueurs,
lit Andrea's cigarette, chose a cigar
for himself and sat down. During the
coffee they eyed each other in silence,
taking each others measure. at is too
bad" he said finally, "that we can't
take this hour for itself alone and
drink together a cup of peace and
stiffness and comfort"
His words were half a question and
1t was so that Andrea understood them.
She drew a deep sigh, shrugged her
bare shoulders and turned squarely to
her companion. ut is too bad" she
said, repeating his words with bitter
emphasis, that 1 can't forget that on
this night lose everything that mat
ters-too bad can't brush catastrophe
and ruin aside for the sake of fool
moon and cigarette"
AS she spoke. the man braced him
self. Everything that matters" he
repeated ruin! What have you lost
that matters? Wherein have you been
ruined?"
The girl stared at him, Open-eyed.
you know who / am, what | stand
for in my world, and how that world
will make q chasm that l can never
recross after this night and you can
sit there and say it doesn't matter and
ask where's the ruin?"
The man looked away from her tense
face. "The things that matter" he
said quietly, "are health-first of body
and then of soul-honor that can stand
alone, and the flame of an inner lamp.
There is nothing else that really counts
and you've lost none of these. As for
ruin" He turned his eyes back to
her and in them was a CLEAN of quiz
zical challenge. "Shall define ruin
for your"
please do" said Andrea, unsmiling.
"Ruin," said the man, "is burial.
Whether it's Pompeii or an entire civ
ilization lying under strata of a ten
thousand years stride of time-or an
individual rotting under the sod of
conventions. it's all one and the same
thing. Routine is a tomb, and when
you go so deep in its foul air that you
can't keep burning the flame of that
inner lamp / mentioned, why you're
dead to every intent and every pur-
pose. That, Andrea Pellor, is ruin"
He used her name without prefix,
but without familiarity; simply as a
cOrollary to his stark frankneSS. She
realized this almost subconsciously.
Her thoughts fingered on the substance
of what he had said. but when she
spoke she proved herself a woman.
Speaking of names, what is yOurs?"
she asked.
milne? Ny Manner said the man,
startled out of his role. He stared
absently through and beyond her.
why, / haven't anyhow. Not that
amounts to anything" His eyes came
back to her. "Call me Mr.. White Man
as you have begun-just White Man
when you feel genial, if you ever do"
well, Mr.. White Man." said Andrea,
with emphasis. what you said about
ruin didn't pass quite over my head.
believe you spoke with genuine sim
eerity and that, as you doubtless re-
member, Is conversational bad taste.
Somehow 1t didn't bore me, but do you
really think that women are persuaded
by words?'
The man dropped his eyes. sNo.r
he said listlessly. Il don't. / know
but had forgotten. that women arc
persuaded by love alone"
what" cried Andrea.
women said the man. ssknow NO
conversion except through love-"
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