Evening star., 1920-11-28

| Get my boy, dye hear? You get
| him! 1t was your foreign germs.

Get my boy, dye hear9 You get
him! It was your foreign germs
Get him Or"
'Stevev
He did not even complete the ges.
ture. but, instead, fell sobbing, with
rocker she had vacated; and even as
| she recoiled. with her great bronze
head flung back from him and quiv-
ering with outrage, as IL the very
w1thes of her were unwrung in spite
of her. she yearned toward him, her
,, compassion flowing over her like
warm waters.
steven" she cried. reaching out.
Get my boy; you get him."
Steven. you're crazy with"
Shut up!,' he shouted, raising his
her through infiamed eyes. shut up
my boy. dye hearr He rose and
came crafty toward her with his
head forward like a bull lunging.
WITH a cry that rose somewhere
w from the primordial depths of
her. Annie Kineady leaped backward
from him, laid hold Of by a rage that
sent the blood darkly up into her
face. overlaying her heavy white
on up into her hair. where 1t poured
back from her brow.
you, now! You, noww Springing
back. she held herself well away
from him. mo. you don't! No-you
don'tv'
Her hat and a wool coat dangled
from q peg, and, with q challenging
gaze which she did not once remove
from him, she slid into them. A
strapped telescope. bulgtng like an
old hassock. stood by. She reached
from II m safsns sns was ssns sss x - tss
even the side Of her which sagged to
the considerable weight Of the tele-
scope rose and fell in her travail.
You." she cried with her hand
finally on the knob and her hat fallen
half back from her great bronze bell
Why. you don't even get drunk like q
man. You only blubber! Now, Steve
kineady. stand and stare. you! Grassy
devil you. Shut up or get out? Eh?
ssyi ssIa up yon or sth get Sut We'll then
Annie girl! Annie" and in the
face Of the slammed door he fell for.
ward. weeping weak tears into the
rocker seat.
Outside the rain came down like
pins. pecking and pricking. When
Annie Kineady. plunging through the
road tracks, her skirts clung 30 that
she stopped for q moment in the
I downpour to wiring at her hens and
the fare of her jacket.
The lights of the village burned
| through the wall of rain like the
glazed eyes OF the dying, but in Spar
tan the nights are long, and even as
she walked the tracks tie by tie, she
could see them blink out in the box
shaped houses, except in the glazier's.
whose wife lay low Of typhoid pneu.
monia, and in Abe Brodie's. made sim
pie, poor soul. by sunstroke. and who
loved to count far into the night
imaginary ransoms of imaginary
kings. Across the tracks and in the
hollow an unaccustomed lamp in
Ltddy Kineady's side window burned
without flicker.
But Annie Kineady gathered her
| the fiatlands behind her. She ran
faster. her black skirts tapping about
her and q wisp of black veil flying
back. At the dim station, low and
squat as a hut. the telegrapher raised
shade.
"Hllo. Annie"
"Hllo, Joe.'
est. Louis?'
YES"
The accommodation slid rustily into
the station. She found q seat In the
day coach. The air in there hung
thick and gaseous. and when the train
Jerked out almost Immediately. cell.
ing lamps. with their sick yellow
wicks OF light, began to sway She
sat on the red plush seat, telescope
: across her knees and eyes squeezed