Evening star., 1920-06-13
BY j. BRUNO-RUBY.
Translated from the French by


William l.. Mcpherson.
n II ARTHE put down her work.
nu Twilight had stolen on them,
invading the room with Its
softness, covering. obscuring,
obiterating all things. Only the nre
burned a little more brightly, strug
Cling against the shadows. Bursts OF
song and laughter penetrated from
the neighboring apartment. The same
Joyous sounds mounted from the
streets. The new year seemed TO De
coming in on a wave of merrlment.
Marthe felt, all at once, sadder than
ever Her eyes fell on Jacques, seat
ed before the fireplace. she walcheo
his cIean-cut silhouette, the delicate
profile, which the rays of the fire out
lined with a touch of gold.
JACQUES" she said. timidly. "aren
YOU tired of sitting here? Don't you
want to go out?'
He gave start and answered
brusquely, without turning his head:
why go out?"
Il don't know. It's gayer outside.
perhaps"
He shrugged his shoulders very
slightly That was al. She got up
and approached him. He used 10 De
so conside crate, SO full of spirits, SO
good. so affectionate. Ana now
There were other mutilated soldiers
who found consolation in the tender
ness of those who loved them and
were still happy. But he. Suffering
had made him SO bitter that she had
begun to despair of ever humanlzlns
him again.
Listen" she said. Everybody is
happy today. Let us do as the others
do. Let us go out.
She patted his shoulder and stroked
his head caressingly. But ne drew
away. showing as he did so, his full
face-one side rounded. the other dis
figured by horrible wound.
Poor Marthe! And where do you
want to go?'
ITO u tearoom or a motion picture
show, where there will be light and
music, and you can get little out CT
yourself"
He grinned.
You must be very much bored at
home. il you can resign yourself TO
go about exhibiting such monster
as me. No; go out alone. II you are
itching to go. But you shan't make
a spectacle of me-"
Tears came to Marthe's eyes. For
two years he had tortured her with
out pity. Nothing could quiet that
soul, made distrustful and rebelliouS
by its own sensitive pride. He made
it a sort of point of honor to doubt
Marthe-to doubt her love. At first
he had not been SO completely the
dupe of his morbid vanity. He knew
that his wife was absolutely devoted
to him. that nothing in the world
could alter her affection. But, little
by little, the evil demon had stifled
even the voice of reason. The false
idea had become an obsession. New
ertheless Marthe refused to despair.
The remembrance Iof her past hap
piness still sustained her. She pro-
tested ardently:
"Oh. Jacques, why do you say
things which you don't believe! You
know that l am prouder of you today
than I have ever been. You know
that / love you and that you Will
always be my Jacques!
She sank to her knees and threw
her arms about him. He seemed to
hesitate an instant. Then his fea-
lures were convulsed anew.
why do you lie to me?" he growled.
Il don't want your pity. l should
never want it. Let me alone.
He thrust her away SO brutally that
she lost her balance.
She picked herself up in a fash.
Indignation choked her. Then she
mastered herself and decided to make
one last effort. She knelt before him.
laid her little hand on his long,
nervous hand and murmured:
Jacques, what can l do to restore
your confidence in yourself and in
both of US? Would you like it better
if we two lived in the country some
where. ali alone? Would you like to
go on a long voyage? l will do any
thing you ask"
He gazed at her coldly, with sort
of hatred.
BE silent" he said sharply. You
are talking foolishness. Let US stay
as we are. You will always have a
grudge against me for being so hid
eous, and l shall have a grudge