Fitzgerald leader enterprise and press. (Fitzgerald, Ben Hill County, Ga.) 1921-1964, 1923-04-05

vas uSIlS Il-Sne anu REDMOND were
far apart. 1t was only at odd intervals
now, brief and far apart, that the
Myrta he'd married came back to him.
She was still there. though. She was
there now. Trouble
A mere" husband. an appendage.
Weii' the term fitted well enough. 1t
was queer, though. the twist the mo-
ment gave to 1t. In trouble, If she
were, Mrs. Redmond was not merely
Mrs. Redmond He was a husband
yes; and instinctively to him she be-
came transformed. She was Myrta;
and as Myrta. his wife. If Myrta need
ed help -.
Redmond, startling, had half risen
from his chair when the pantry door
opened, and the woman, Harriet Linn.
stalked forth.
There's y'r eggs" she pronounced.
Redmond resumed hs seat. To
Myrta he could have flown, offering
aid. To Mrs. Redmond-well, that vas
different.
He sat there, incoming The Linn
woman had withdrawn; and his eggs
grew cold within the cup. Mulling 1t
over, his thoughts were now going at
full tilt, gallOping. In the way with
those who moon, who null, one thing
ran Into another, plllng up In magni-
tude. If something really was wrong,
what was it? hundred thoughts
raced into his mind Politics
SnhnInnC D1nfc ylo 20
er. With women, women didn't
differ much from men. Politics, too,
We're Mrs. Redmond's daily pabulum.
Had she done something? Had she
compromised herself? Unwilling had
she let herself into something ugly?
Vague stories, sinister whispers of poll
tics, public affairs, Deaped into his re-
membrance. Her ambitions he knew.
He knew, too, that She-that Is, Mrs.
Redmond-Would make no distinction
in methods. "In politics no sex" was
the watchword Of these women, Mrs
Redmond's associates, hers as well.
They fought with the same tools as
the men. But If Myrta 49,.
Myrta again-Myrta, not Mrs. Red
mond. An exclamation, sharp, ex-
plosive, escaped him. Showing back |
his chair he rose abruptly.
Harriet Lipp. as IL her eye had been
glued to the crack in the pantry door,
at once showed 1t open.
"Say, you amt ct y'r breakfus'w
she barked.
Redmond had flung down his napkin
on the cloth. He looked at the figure |
In the doorway.
"What did your mistress say? he
demanded
Harriet Lips eyes narrowed de-
fensively.
"Say when?" she countered.
"This morning-just now!" raped |
Redmond, his temper rising. as she
HIP" he snapped again.
mo, she ANTI" the woman an
sw cred.
'"Then why isn't she coming downT' |
asked Redmond.
With direct flnallty the woman an
swered him. "She's a-breakfustin' a.
bed" said Harriet Lipp.
That ended 1t.
For a long moment afterwards the |
hard-featured maid stood there at the |
pantry door, one hand at her breast,
her face strained as she gazed after
him. A breath escaped her. The mys-
terry of all this, though, was not re-
vealed to Redmond. Already he was
at the stairway hurrying upward.
Mrs. Redmond's room was at the
front of the house, on the floor above, l
For years-four years now, nearly
f1ve-she and her husband had occu-
pied separate rooms. AS Redmond
reached the door he paused. His hand
uplifted, he made as II to knock, then
desisted. Standing there, he put one
ear to the panel and listened.
1t was only for an instant, though.
The next instant, without even the
formality Of knock, he thrust open
the door and stepped inside.
"Myrta |" he exclaimed.
She lay there among the coverings
Of the bed, her back to him; and as he
entered, calling to her, she did not
move. Along the pillows the masses
of her thick, silky hair. like ropes of
FURNISHED copper. lay strewn; and
above the Counterpart limp. slender
arm, girllshly rounded and pink, re-
vealed itself She was still young,
only year or so over thirty; and now,
as Redmond looked at her, her figure
among the coverings seemed appeal
ingly slight and youthful. More than
that, though. in its supine pose at the
moment there was a suggestion Of lax
ity, Of helpless detection that he was
quick to see.
"Myrta" he cried again.
She answered him then. It was,
however, Mrs. Redmond rather than
the Myrta he called who spoke. Nor
did she turn. From among the pillows
her voice rose, formal and precise
the voice Of Mrs. Redmond, the public
woman's voice.
"What is it?" she inquired.
Redmond paused midway across the
room. His air, his look, eager and
anxious, altered, too.
"You all right?" he questioned.
A pause. She still did not turn,
and In the pause he stirred uncomfort-
ably. Then from the bed came her
voice, its note, as before still precise.
"All right? Why do you ask.
pray9"
Uncertainty, he took step toward
her.
"Why, you see, you didn't come to
your breakfast" he faltered.
Again she replied, this time with a
Chanpa q motto Of Detulonco I'm her