The Washington times., 1923-08-20
By Charles G. Norris.

By Charles G. Norris.
~ MPATIENTLY, she jerked his
small arms into his street
coat, crammed his hat upon
his head and, after struggling
into her own wraps, dragged
him by the arm, stumbling and
blubbering, to the cashier, 10
whom she explained as she paid
her check that the child was
"iust a little imp" and she
couldn't do a thing with him.
The little lunch room seemed
suddenly hushed after their
clamor. Mary began slowly to
manipulate her long white fingers
into the snugness of her soiled
gloves, preparing to depart.
THAT sort of thing seems so
unnecessary, she said with An
expression of distaste. 1T up
sets me-makes me actually Ill.
Dreadful people,! It's lack
of discipline, that's all. Neither
that mother nor child knows the
meaning Of the word. Such ex-
hibitions shouldn't be allowed in
public. . suppose it's the
chance one takes wandering into
such queer places. But the
tea and toast were good, weren't
they?"
But Philip was not listening. He
was thinking Of Santa Cruz, and
the noisy group in the Casino, the
screaming women, the boisterous
young men, Jimmy Fisher shout
ing orders for more drinks and a
shrill voice beside him, asking
him if he did not think Marjorie
looked a lot like Maude Adams.
The woman with the sobbing Lit.
tie boy had been Lilliar North
His Secret Known
He knew that Mary as well as
her mother guessed his secret
IL secret it had ever been. The
fervor in his eyes as he gazed
into her face would have pro-
claimed it loudly even to an in
different observer. He had no
thought to hide it, He confessed
It in every way he dared. If she
saw his love and permitted it,
was il not reasonable to believe
1t was not unacceptable to her?
Thus he. tried to encourage him
self, but in the same moment
with this thought there rushed
upon him an overwhelming sense
Of his inferiority. She belonged
to Olympus and he was Of the
earth; she was a divinity, he a
churl. She could MOTT was un-
thinkable that she should ever
come to like him-to care for
him! He dared not voice a word
that even remotely suggested
love.
And yet week succeeded week,
and day by day they saw each
other, and as if this intimacy did
not suffice, they wrote to one
another. generally at bedtime,
evidence that the last waking
thought of each was of the other.
Philip trod on air, and Mary
welcomed his companionship, and
laughed and forgot her cool Dig
nifty and self-repression. Their
friendship was enough, more than
he deserved, Philip constantly re.
minded himself. Why risk what
was so precious by stupid decla-
ration?
The Proposal
Il love you, Mary, with all
my soul. ," Can you love me?
Will you be my wife?"
The significant words found
their way inevitably to his lips,
despite his fine determinations.
Passion swept him off his feet
Ills strong arms took her graci-
Gus person tenderly into the big
circle of their embrace, and. as
she sank toward him, trembling
little in the moment of surren.
der, he caught her to him with a
choking, inarticulate glad cry, and
crushed her lips to his.
1t was all too wonderful, too
tremendous! Mary, the spiritual.
the high-minded, the student and
musician, had seemed sufficiently
marvellous. but Mary, the woman
so soft, so yielding, so tender,
who rested her head upon his