The Washington times., 1922-08-06

SlLIlnB tneTe ike BISas osos
in fool. What am I to do?
What am / to do? They don't
take 'em at my age-and my
looks. The life's out o. me
you're startin' fresh, and I wish /
could see you stale. I'd like to see
you wi your looks gone and your
hair-and your figger-and see
where you'd be then. Oh! Oh!
Oh! What am I to do?
"You listen to me, and I'll tell
you. I'd like to hit your heart
with it, you hussy! I got a hus-
band. He's an invalid, and ! keep
him in London. can't take him
on tour. An he was so bad last
week l couldn't leave him to join
on. l got a little girl. You can't
take kids on tour, and l board her
out, and she sees her mummy
when there's a chance. And him
and her and me out of the two
pound Wigmore pays me!
"And now you've took the two
pound, and I'm left empty!
Empty! Empty! Empty! You take
it, you thief, you as has "ot but
one life. And l got three! Il
don't know where to turn myself.
Wigmore offered to pay my fare
up, cause he's afraid I'll come and
rave and break up the show to-
night"
She slowly went to the door.
mo-" she said, eyeing the pale
leading lady. 81 won't go to-
night. I've took a room close to
Wigmore's and I'll stay till the
morning. I can't go back and tell
him. I'll have to make up some
thing first. And p'raps l will
come and spoil your beauty show
for you. P'raps I'll let the place
know how I've been served!
P'raps I'll get you Kissed off the
boards tonight. P'raps I'll-oh"
she whispered, 'T'm crazy"
She pulled open the door and
stood leaning against it.
81 hate you" she said from her
heart, striking the Intel with her
4 clenched hand.
And walked heavily out.
The door slammed behind her,
and the girl, who had said not a
word, leaned forward in her chair.
She had been smitten into silence.
She put her head down where Con-
ME Collette's had lain and cried.
Perhaps ten minutes passed before
she looked up, resolution in her
eyes, and the ghost of a wan smile
frozen on her lips. Luck was out,
then.
Meg" she whispered to her
self, of the habit acquired through
much loneliness, you're a bad for
tune hunter. You listen to sick
husbands wanting their wives, and
to kiddies wanting their mummies,
and to-curses. Horrible" she
sobbed, finding pencil and paper.
The resolution was brave in her
eyes, the half smile on her lips as
she scribbled:
Dear Mr.. Wigmore-I've sud-
denly decided to chuck the show.
Pm tired of it, and don't like
it as much as thought l should.
Sorry I shant play the House
maid" tonight, as Pm going up
by the seven o'clock train.
don't know what you'll do for a
"lead" I'm sure.
MARGARET MORTON.
She saw clearly what Mr.. Alas
tair Wigmore would do. She
threw her things hastily into her
kit bag-it was all she had
brought-dispatched the note by
hand and hurried to the station
1t was close on seven o'clock.
To a wild-eyed woman crouch
ing over her fire and thinking
thinking, thinking till her brain
reeled, there presently came, like a
whirlwind, Mr.. Alastair Wigmore.
Connie, old girl" he said. His
voice had altered-it was persua-
sive, wheedling. "How'd you like
to play the "Housemaid" to-
night?"
She sprang up.
where's your new beauty?"
she said, half gasping, half gibing.
where's your Siddons. and Ellen