The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1921-12-21
BY Arthur Stringer
Well-knOwn Author and Novelist Of
Countrywide Reputation.

A s he sat confronted by uncer-
~ tainties which could prove more
torturlng than truth itself his
unhappy and wandering eyes aested
on his wife's trunk. the steel.h md
theatrical trunk which stood SO
definite and so personal a part of
her belongings.
Storrow remembered the little
chamois bag of jewels, the locked
makeup box which held them, and
the carefully tied bundle of letters
which rested there beside them.
Then he looked away, finding the
thought of spying inexpressibly
abhorrent. But still again his
glance went back to the dark mass
of the trunk, saraphagus-l in it's
righteousness, and still again he
felt the tug of suspicion, demand
ing that it be verified or for all
time rejected. Finally he sur
rendered to an impulse which
proved too strong for him, and
crossed to the trunk and opened 1t.
He could vaguely foresee, as he
lifted out the first makeup box,
in which, he remembered, the key
to the lower box was hidden, that
what he was about to do involved
the danger of bringing him vast
misery, Of thrusting into his hands
some damning truth which might
forever strike down what was left
OF his happiness. Yet the demand
for knowledge, he found, was
stronger than his dread of it. To
know, to be certain; that was the
only, the vital, the essential thing.
Then, as his search through the
makeup box ended and revealed
the key to be missing, a surge of
swept through him. Circumstances,
less fluid than his own will, was
compelling him to draw back from
that disheartening prospecting after
misery.
And he was glad to be through
with 1t. Yet, he contended as he
fact that the key had been taken
away from It's customary hiding
place implied reason for it's re-
moyal. Torrie, suspicious of his
own possible suspicious, had not
unnaturally decided to protect her
self, had recognized some newer
need for secrecy.
A Disturbing Sense.
He went back to the trunk again.
searching 1t from end to end for
the missing key. He was assailed
as he did so by a strange mingling
of odors, the faint smell of grease
paint and cosmetics, the vague per-
fumes, from formless silk finery,
OF orris and patchouli and Apres
LOndi, the heavy mustiness of gar
ments long unused.
They brought to him a disturb
ing sense OF their owners near
ness. a silently rebuking ghost of
her gazing down over his shoulder.
But this did not deter him. He
was now determined in fact that
nothing should deter him.
So fixed was he In this purpose
that when he disinterred the Sec
ond makeup box from under its
paint-soiled towel in a lower tray
he first made sure that 1t was
locked and then carried II across
the room to his work desk Then
he returned to the trunk, replaced
the trays and shut down the lid.
Before proceeding deeper into
that campaign of espionage he
crossed to the studio door and
locked II. His fingers were tremb-
ling a little, he noticed, as he took
up the tapanned tin box, so bat
tered and stained and bruised, and
attempted to force up the lid with
a knife from his kitchenette. This
was possible. he saw, but II would
leave the lock broken, the irrefut.
able evidence Of his violation OF