Americus times-recorder. [volume] (Americus, Ga.) 1891-current, 1923-12-27

Clayering asked her one Cay when
the sensation was about a month
old and was beginning to expire
enthusiastically for want of fresh
fuels tNot a woman in New York
could be induced to admit that she
was taking the treatment.) You
are the most famous woman In
America and the pioneer of a revo.
luton that may have lasting and
momentous consequences on which
we can only speculate vaguely to-
day. don't believe you are as IN
moved as you look. It's not in wo-
mans nature-in human nature.
Publicity goes to the head and
then descends to the marrow of
the bones"
I'm not unmoyed, I've been
tremendously interested and ex-
cited. l find that newspaper noto-
riety is the author of distinctly
new sensation" And then she felt
a disposition to play with fire.
Clavering was in one of his rare
detached moods, and had evidently
come for an hour of agreeable com
panionship. Il am beginning to
get a little bored and tired. If it
. were not for this Vienna Fund
and to the newspapers for their
assistance l am eternally grateful
n believe I'd suggest that we
leave for Austria tomorrow
"And l wouldn't go" Clavering
stood on the hearthrug smiling
down at her with humorous def
ance you switched me on to
that play, and there / stick until it
is finished. No chance for it in a
honeymoon, and no chance for I'M.
diluted happiness with that crash.
ing round inside my head"
She shrank and turned cold, but
recovered herself sharply and dis
missed the pang. 10 was her first
experience, in her exhaustive
knowledge of men, of the writing
temperament; and after all it was
part Of the novelty of the man who
had obliterated every other from
her mind. Nor had she any inten.
ton of letting him see that he
could hurt her. She smiled sweet
ly and asked:
elbow is it coming on? Are you
satisfied with it?"
Yes, l am. And so is Cora
Dwight. sPye finished two acts and
I read them to hersfast night"
"Ah? Your Egeria?"
Not bit of it. But she's a wise
cold-blooded critic. You can't
blame me for not even talking
about it to you. l see so little of
you that I've no intention of vast
ing any of the precious time"
But you might let me read it.
ed rather wait until it's fin
ished and as polished and perfect
as I can make it. l always want
you to know me at my best"
"Oh, my dear! You forget that
we are to be made one and remain
twain. Do you really believe that
we shall either of us always be at
our best?"
We'll, to tell you the truth, I
don't care a hang whether we are
or not. I'll have you, and all to
myself. And l won't say for a
while, at least Do you imagine
that when we return to New York
I'm going to let Society take pos
session of you again? Not only
shah l work harder than I've ever
worked before, but I'd see little
more of you than I do now. And
that I'll never submit to again. I'll
write my next play inside this
house, and you'll be here when
want you, not gadding about"
She felt a sudden pang of dis
may, apprehension. New York?
She realized that not for moment
had she given up her original pur.
pose. But why disturb the seren-
ity Of the present? When she had
him in the Dolomites She
answered him in the same light
tone.
I'm having my last fling at New
York Society. When we return
well give our spare time to the
Sophistieates. l see far less OF
them now than 1 like"
(Te Be Continually a.aaaz
IN Associated First Rational