The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1922-02-19

Eyes. II was awful. He saw
things pretty clearly, you know.
He realized that II something
didn't happen he'd remain a bril-
liant freelance, and he would have
no precise reputation for anything.
He was in despair. He doubted
himself. | remember the FIRST time
we talked about II. He said to me:
I'm too clever; ! haven't got the
blindness to everything but one
subject that gets man so trusted
that they listen to him on the CUES
tions he's blind to. ! ought to
specialize. on concrete. Fill my
head with concrete. The British
public prefers heads fillei with
concrete to heads filed with abb
stract. They're harder. They're
useful against brick walls, II only
to break on them And he didn't
know how to get out; he was do.
ing too many things, harbortrg too
many ideas. He was working him
self TO a shadow. and he wouldn't
lei go of anything, and loved
him So"
Mrs. Headcorn looked up, for
this was too irrelevant even for
her
Yes" said Mrs. Caldecot, II
think II was that moved me. He
was so lost, as well as so wonder
full. wanted to help him; I didn't
know how ! was going to do it, but
somehow / felt could. Don't think
me too noble, May; | don't say that
it's out of charity | did this. No,
felt II was going to be the most
exciting adventure in the world. TO
make a man, perhaps TO make
power.
"Oh, | was quite selfish, but there
was no harm in II, because he need
ed me. He'd had such an awful
time in so many ways: a girl he'd
cared for had broken off her en-.
gagement with him a fortnight be-
fore the marriage was supposed TO
take place. and walked straight
from her house to the registrars
and married somebody else. That's
why he was drugging himself with
politics. and the drug wasn't work.
ing because he'd lost himself, be-
cause he didn't believe any more
In his power, in his reputation, be-
cause he was almost getting
humble when he compared himself
with some stuffed eid0rdown on
the front bench or some nincom-
poop journalist with the egg-shell
still sticking to him.
And il was ]. oh. I'm proud OF
II. who changed all that. When
found him he'd ceased to exist. A
year later, quite suddenly. he must
have realized II. He said some
thing to me-"
What did he say"
Mrs. Caldecot hesitated, as II
the revelation Of this intimacy Of
the spirit seemed indelicate. Then:
We'll. he said to me: When we
met, was only a sort Of ghost
And now I'm not a man. I'm an
act Of faith He was right, you
know. and | loved him for It. It
was as II he were my child In
way. He said other lovely things.
that men think themselves very
grand and important, but that liz
reality they're only shadows o
which the love of women gives IA
body.
You see how It is: he needs me.
Oh, don't want TO pretend; say
1t. again, it was really because
loved him. and not just because
wanted to help him. remember
too well what / suffered during
those three> years with Geoff. And
the FIVE years after Geoff went
away, when ] was alone, wher Id
got used 10 being a deserted wife,
and made my little circle, and
gone back every night to that dear
little house, as they call it, and
that dear little silent life. Bob
changed all thai. Ii was like com.
ing on a torch in fog.
He's given me such heavenly
happiness, always, always, even
when he was careless in the things
he said, as men are when th~y've
a clever tongue, and hurt me; even
when he was taken up with some
idea and | didn't matter to him
more than a bit of furniture. |
liked being his bit of furniture Oh,
yes, it's been beautiful. and
row. a tone of GOODNESS, al
most of despair, came into her
ice. "Oh, we'll l suppose I'd bet
ter be happy-while it lasts"
Mrs. Hesdcora's blue eyes grew
quite round: How do you rean,
Claire? While It lasts?"
For the first time in this intimate
conversation Mrs. Caldecot fiushe".
She looked very beautiful with her
pale cheeks so dyed, but the sud.
den dilation of her eyes belied this
air OF youth. "Oh, | don't know.
Only, you see-he's younger than
| am"
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