The Glenwood post., 1924-04-03


upon him after time and found him
living In the same large apartment
they had taken. Apart from
solemnity and reserve which sprane
from a wounded and disgruntled
spirit, he pretended an Indifference
and q satisfaction with his present
state which did not square with his
past love Tor her. She had gone, yes,
and with another man. He was sure
Of that, although he did not know who
the man was. 1t was all due to one
Of those two women about whom he
had told me before, that Mrs. Drake.
She had interested Bessie in things
which did not and could not interest
him. They were all alike, those peo-
ple-crazy and notlonal and insincere.
After a time he added that he had
been to see her parents. could not
guess why. unless 1t was because he
was lonely and still very much in love
and thought they might help him to
understand the troublesome problem
that was before him.
There was no other word from him
for much over a year, during which
time he continued to live In the apart.
ment they had occupied together. He
had retained his position with the
agency and was now manager of a
department. One rainy November
night he came to see me, and seated
himself before my fire. He looked
well enough, quite the careful person
who takes care of his clothes, but
thinner, more tense and restless. He
said he was doing very well and was
thinking Of taking a long vacation to
visit some friends in the West. (He
had heard that Bessie had gone to
California; Then of sudden, noting
that studied him and wondered, he
grew restless and finally got up to
look at a shelf of books Suddenly he
wheeled and faced me, exclaiming: "I
can't stand 1t. That's what's the mat
ter. I've tried and tried. l thought
that the child would make things
work out all right, but 1t didn't. She
didn't want children and never for
gave me for persuading her to have
Marie. And that literary craze-but
that was my fault. was the one that
encouraged her to read and go to the
theaters. / used to tell her she
wasn't up-to-date, that she ought to
wake up and find out what was going
on in the world, that she ought to get
out with intelligent people. :.
But 1t wasn't that, either. II she had
been the right sort of woman she
couldn't have done as she has DONE"
He paused and clenched his hands
nervously, as though he were de-
nouncing her to her face instead of
to me.
Now, Wray,' I interposed, "how
useless to say that. Which Of US is
as he ought to be2 Why will you talk
so?"
But let me tell you what she did,"
he went on fiercely. you haven't an
Idea of what I've been through. not an
Idea. She tried to poison me once"
and here followed Il sad recital of the
twists and turns and desperation of
one who wished to be free. "And she
1 could never find out who he was"
And he gave me details Of certain
mysterious goings to and fro, of Sc
cret pursuits on his part, of actions
and evidences and moods and quar-
rels which pointed all too plainly to a
breach that could never be healed.
"And what IL more, she tortured ME.
You'll never know-you couldn't. But
I loved her. And I love her now"
Once more the tensely gripped fingers,
the white face, the flash Of haunted
eyes. "Once followed her to a res
taurant when she said she was going
to visit friend, and she met a man.
I followed them when they came out,
and when they were getting into cab
told them both what thought Of
them. l threatened to kill them, and
then he went away when she told him
to 60. When we got home I couldn't
do anything with her. All she would
say was that II didn't like the way
she was doing could let her 60. She
wanted me to give her a divorce. And
I couldn't let her go, even II I had
wanted to. loved her too much.
Why, she would sit and read and
ignore me for days-days, without
ever word"
"Yes." l said, "but the folly of It
all. The uselessness, the hopeless
ness"
"Oh, know. but I couldn't help 1t.
I was crazy about her. The more she
disliked me, the more I loved her
have walked the streets for hours.
whole days at time, because
couldn't eat or sleep. And all could
do was think, think, think. And that
Is about all do now, really. have
never been myself since she left. It's
almost as bad right now as 1t was
two years ago. I live in the old apart
ment, yes. But why1 Because I think
she might come back to me. wait
and wait know it's foolish, but
still wait. Whyi God only knows.
Oh" he sighed. ats three years now
three yearH"