Arizona republican., 1921-12-28

John went for a walk with Don cling ing to his hand, as he sometimes did on a Sunday afternoon.
 Despite Johns bitter experience he had not yet learned the unwiseness of trying to override the essentials of Marcsa's character. He was blind to her selfshness, because he would be blind. He excused Der unwilling ness to give him son on the ground of her frail constitution as impressed upon him by her mother when she visited them. Although he was frank ly puzzled over it, as Marcia was sell dom, if ever, i'll.
 As John watched Marcia and his thoughts travelled back over the six years of their married life he asked himself if he ever had loved her as he was capable of loving, as he loved
 Muriel? Hadn't it been mere pro- pinquity? The desire for home. her beauty of face and form Had there ever been anything of the spirit in their love
 A young fellow in the office told
 John one day that his boy, a child of five years, was very ill with scar let fever. John sent the father home, 1 then remained long after closing time | to do the young mans work. Marcia had made plans to go out | that evening. Naturally, she was dis l appointed when John failed to get home in time to take her. Thinking to placate her, John gave his reason, | the illness of the child. | What people want to have chill | dren for I can't seei' she clustered. They are a nuisance, always. One 1 has to stay home with them or get some one to do so, and when they are | sick call on perfect strangers. It is ridiculous. Thank heaven we haven't l any!"
 T guess it is just as well" John I answered dryly. It was the death of | his wish for children. | Yet Marcia was not unloving. She
 was affectionate with John, kind to
 servants. She petted her dog. It was the idea that children would in | terfere with her pleasure, her bridge. | her dancing that made her refuse to | bear them. Just another phase of selfishness.
 | Yet Marcia Aldrich did not give l one the impression of happiness, de- spite all that was done for her, all | she did at the dictates of her own
 sweet win. She never seemed quite | satisfied, was always reaching out 1 for something different. She was 1 bored, yet busy-in her own way l running here, there and everywhere searching for pleasure, then com p1aining that there was no time for 1 anything; that she didn't know | where the days went. 1 The diseontented lines deepened on ] her pretty face the tiny ones around her eyes grew more noticeable. Thls became an added cause for discon- l tent, also for spending money. A l masseuse twice a week at first, then | fnr 6apaa n6inC a larger allowance.
 .I must have her. and you will have 1 to give me more money." Marcia de- clared to John.
 | But Marcia, three dollars a day for wrinkles seems a lot,' John spoke Ifacetiously. He often tried to turn l Marcia's thoughts in this way, but seldom with success.
 "Claire Sanders has hers every day,
 and she has done wonders for her. If
 I have her regularly won't be obliged
 to have her for long-not every day.
 After a while twice a week again will
 do But until she gets my skin in
 shape I must have attention every
 day. Other women do." ending as
 usual with either a plea or statement
 based on what other women of her acquaintance did.
 1t Marcia, you are pretty enough as you are."
 If I wasn't pretty I wouldn't care to take so much time keeping myself up. Ugly women can't help beins ugly, but when one is pretty it is {
 duty to keep pretty" Quoting Morrow again. I'll bet. What if I am? He knows what ; woman needs and doesn't act stingy
 He gives Adele everything she ask
 for Am to have that extra money 2 Madame comes this morning and must tell her"
 (To be continued)