The Press., 1920-05-13
She Held Her Breath In Terror.

1t had been shelteredl There had al- ways been money modestly enough among the Floyds; and Victorian ethics; and religion. And when Jus tines mother married a Floyd she be- came Floyd. Justine's life had been ordered and serene and physically, at least, wholesome. She was very young still. Also she was nightly afraid.
 Again the rasping sound at the liv- ing-room window, and little creaking noise. Then Justine's hypersensitized ears heard the unctious whisper of the window cords as a sash was raised. She held her breath in terror. This was no figment of her imagination-no nervecreated Illusion. Somebody was breaking into the hOuse-waS even then in the next room. A criminal, q burglar, one of those desperate, evil creatures she had read about but never really feared because she never really realized that they could possibly enter the lives of quiet, unadventurous peo- pie like herself.
 Justine did not at all follow the pre- scribed course for heroines of bur glaries as depicted in the movies. She did not quietly arise, open a bureau drawer, take therefrom an automatic pistol. switch on the electric light and calmly command the intruder to "sit down." She lay as still as she could and trembled very much and found it 70 hard to breathe quietly that she thought she should die then and there and so escape from a situation out of which there seemed no other possible way. The only other thing she could think of was the telephone-and the phone was in the front hall and there was no way of reaching 1t save through the living room-where the burglar was. So Justine covered her head with the bedclothes and quaked in- wardly and outwardly.
 Even then she could hear the whir sf the window shade as the burglar pulled 1t down after him, and when he struck his foot against a chair and sibilantly cursed, Justine identified the very chair he had encountered and shrank at the profanity, of which in her life she had heard very little in-
 
 she heard his steps coming nearer and nearer-and nearer; till they stopped just outside her door, which stood ajar.
 Justine knew the door opened, care fully, slowly, though she could not hear 1t. And all of a sudden 1t became i'm possible for her to remain there. like bor bood bid6on onI her eyes blinded, while fearful danger. death most likely. crept upon her in the dark. She threw back the covers, opened wide her eyes and stared into the blinding glare of fashlight.
 Good God Almighty"
 It was not profanity. It was the voice of a terrible shock such as when death flashes out of a moonbeam, or an awful anguish springs out of the heart of rose. In Justine's room 1t was not quite dark. From a street lamp outside a little light filtered in. She could see the form of the man, as the fiashlight crashed to the floor, lean up against the wall; and that he had hidden his eyes in the hollow of his arm.
 Three words only had he spoken, but the heart of Justine Partry leaped back quarter of century. Steve" she walled. The man never moved.
 White, shaking, Justine reached for the negligee robe beside her, covered herself, sprang out of bed, drew the window shade and, with hands that almost refused to do the hiddinp of her will snapped on the electric light. to reach which she had almost to touch the motionless form of this intruder. Then she looked at him.
 She had been right. There Is some thing that persists through the spir-