The Washington times., 1922-04-02
Her Unwelcorne Husband

bling hands she struggled with her
case. rummaging among bundles,
old cheques and disused account
books, until at last she found her
passbook and large envelope bear.
ing solicitors imprint. There"
she. said, as she threw them on the
ground at his feet, pick 1t up and
look for yourself"
She watched him with clasped
hands while he went through the
passbook, noting the dividends.
Now she felt amazingly cool. She
was beaten. yes. and she was going
to be blackmailed. Never mind!
Anything to make an end Of this.
Finally he looked up.
well, Clarrie, | can't say ex-
actly what this Is worth unless you
happen to have the evening paper
so that can look up the quotations.
Still. my words my word. ! said
two thousand pounds; I'll let you
off at that, and it's cheap"
She hesitated. for she hated to
think of her money in this mans
hands. 1T won't leave me much
she said.
"Oh, yes, it will. Leave you the
income of your marriage settlement.
AS for the rest. why don't you give
me the lot and make an end OF It!
Then-unless, of course, you want
me TOLL never come round again.
There won't be any point in my do
ing 50 when I've got all | can out
of you. Think of 1t! No more rows
and perfect happiness with Bobbie:'
This repetition of the name en-.
ragged Mrs. Caldecot. IL haven't
said I'd pay" she replied, breath
lessly, land won't"
Wont your" said Caldecot.
suavely. Would you really let
your old husband go without tho
oysters and champagne which are
essential to his decrepit existence:
What shame! I'll have to give
you up-and ask Bobbie.'
you Wouldn't
."Of course | would. Why not!
He'd be pleased TO do something
for you. II | were in his shoes
would. II were a member of Par
lament wouldn't fancy little dt
vorce case. | should know my CON
stituents wouldn't like II. Bobbie1l
pay, don't you. worry; in fact. I'll
look him up and see II l can't get
a bit more than the beggarly two
thousand you're good for"
AS he spoke Mrs. Caldecot made
TO herself an awful picture: Bob N
his study. picking out speech from
among the dear, familiar litter Of
dusty blue books, scrawled notes on
envelopes-and even letters OF her
own. No, she couldn't bear II. That
they should meet. this beast Of prev
and her beloved, ii was impossible.
Oh. she knew Bob'd face him. all
right; heat him, perhaps; gaol him
as he ought to be gaoled; but the
idea OF their contact repelled her.
The thought was to her so abom'
Unable that Suddenly her defences
gave way, and, to his amazemenC,
Caldecot saw his wife fall on her
knees before him, clasp her hands
in prayer, and with distorted face,
with dry eyes. confess:
Yes, it's true. Yes, | do love
him and he loves me. He did love
me. Oh, Godfrey, don't look at me
like that. Yes, it's true, ! own up.
| know | oughtn't to have done It.
know it was wrong, but was 50
wretched, was so lonely, and you d
left me. Oh, I'm not blaming you
now; suppose | was cold, and /
should Lave learned how to put up
with you. | ought to have under.
stood that you weren't any more
perfect than ! am, | suppose. Bu.
| couldn't help II. He did love me
So At first | used to lie awake At
night, crying; | felt so dreadful.
When | was a girl, il Id thought
Id do a thing like that-Td have
drowned myself. But | couldn' I
help it, couldn't. Oh, I've done
wrong, know it, but don't be hard
on me-"
81 don't want to be hard on you, >
replied Caldecot, surveying her with
an interested air. "You only have
to pay up, and then you can do
whatever you like"
$50 that's all you've got to say
she replied, clenching her teeth
Still, since you're here, I'm glad
you know that I've loved another
man. I'm glad you know that you
didn't spoil my life, as you'd like to
have done-that you didn't take all
my pride away, do you hear me-?
I'm glad. Oh, what nonsense I've
been talking about doing wrong. !
did right, and don't care IL all the
world knows 1t. Yes, l did right
She looked beyond him with glow