Atlanta tri-weekly journal. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1920-19??, 1922-03-25
ANDREW AND IMOGENE
By Roe FulkerSon
BY ROE FULKERSON

* n MN CAOo las ISlL ASI AuoOoAu1s dnS
~ nounced Imogene, suddenly.
- "Ouch," said Andrew. What
has he done? Refused to eat her biscut?"
"No," said Imogene. sadly. "This is not
low comedy but real tragedy. She was here
today and told me all about it, and do not
know that I shall ever leave you Andrew.
but if woman was ever justified, she was
cit seems that several months ago he got
mixed up with some other woman, took her
to matinees, slipped around the dark corners
in cafes and went for long walks in the parks
with her and all that sort of thing.
"Of course Ann heard\ about it. Wives
always do. Well, she knew him so well
that she knew it would not last long. It was
simply momentary fascination and he would
come back to her for he loved her as much as
it was possible for a man of his nature to
love woman.
"The thing drifted along for few months
and sure enough he did quit the other wom-
an, finding, as men always do, that woman
who mixes in an affair Of that kind is not
worth wasting time on.
"Ann was glad, naturally, and pleased to
get him back and yet more pleased at his al
most boyish devotion, and so she was as
nice to him as she could possibly be and then
one night he spoiled it completely by con-
Tossing the whole thing to her.
1T was then she left him."
"Why bless my SOUL" exclaimed Andrew,
wasn't that the manly thing to do? If he
had made a fool of himself. wasn't it the
decent thing to say so and promise never to
do it AGAIN."
Certainly not" snapped Imogene. "That
confession was the most absolutely selfish
and hateful part of the whole thing. He
went on with this affair, played the game un-
til it did not interest him, sucked his orange
till nothing but the tasteless peeling was left
and then handed that to her.
Don't you see that so long as he never
made this confession to his wife he was car
rying this sin on his shoulders and in his
own heart? Don't you see that, unconfess-
ed, this thing lay on his conscience, making
him thoughtful OF her and anxious to please
her and that the noment he confessed his
sin it was she who wak bearing the burden?
"The moment he owned up to her about
this affair, he shed it from him like water
running off of a ti1-roof, but she had all
=. its chastity details, things which from
time to time would bring it back to her
while he tossed it aside like cigarette
end
mo wonder she left him. That confess
sion was the very last word in refined cruel.
ty and i'll thoughtless selfishness.
ITO him the matter was closed; to her Just
begun. If you ever want to be kind to me,
keep your confession to yourself"
well, I'll be durned,'' exclaimed Andrew,
thoughtfully. "Then YOU don't want me to
tell you?" he asked.
'Tell me what?" asked Imogene, suspi-
ciously.
"Oh 1t was nothing guess" said Andrew,
anyway it is a thing Of the past now, and
there is no use to say anything about it,"
What is it?" demanded Imogene, "some-
thing about some woman?"
mo-" replied Andrew, gravely. eft waa
one of my habits. All past now. however"
''Tell me at once what you are talking
about" demanded Imogene.
II have picture Of Mary Pickford down at
my Office he said
Copyright, Twenty-first Century Press, Incl