San Antonio light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1911-1993, 1924-03-16


whatsoever-an honest, sincere, geu-
uine, straight young woman, a pal as
well as a wife; and now every tone of
her voice and every word she said,
and every movement of her hands
lied to him-lied foolishly without the
least hope of deceiving him. She
asked what was the matter, but she
knew what was the matter, exactly
and entirely what was the matter.
She knew that he was profoundly
hurt and anxious. Her odious tran
guilty proved that she was insensible
to his suffering.
~ am not going " TO dinner until
that fellow at the next table has
come out" Philip announced with
finality. And then the little pause.
and then the clinching phrase: And
50 now you know"
She gave low, light laugh.
"Oh! It's that? You're still worry
ing about that" she said. just as
though ten minutes earlier they had
not had quite a scene in the bedroom
about the fellow who sat by himself
at the next table. Her method Of
conducting an argument was exasper-
otlnS W luC idob NNSi'N.
IL told you shouldn't" said Philip
with restrained savageEess.
But don't / tell you I've never
even spoken to him."
"The mans q cad. That's certain"
81 don't see that he's a cad"
"No. Women often like cads. But
he's cad all the same. He makes
eyes at you all the time, at every
meal. And upon my soul you smile
at him. Do you think I'm blind?"
4 think you're very silly" she re-
piled, this time with conviction. 81
can't understand you at all. never
heard of such thing. / suppose
you think / ought to feel fattered by
your Jealousy
"Jealousy." he sneered.
"But I'm not" She still spoke
evenly and kindly, somewhat like a
mother to a child. though she was b.
six years his junior.
She imagined that her equanimit7
was very clever But it maddened
Philip. He began to lose control of
himself, and found a terrible satisfac-
ton in doing so. The dreadful
thoughts. suspicious, accusations,
criticisms. condemna,ions, about orr
lest friends which lie hidden at the
bottom of the hearts Of all OF us. and
upon the concealment of which de-
pends the safety and decency of hui
man relations, rose up unchecked to
the surface and escaped in speech.
He called his wife a flirt; he re
ferred to her ruthless hunger for
pleasure and luxury, to her egotism.
to her vanity. to her faulty upbring-
ing, to the absurdities of her parents
and other relatives, and to his own
confiding trustful, foolish nature,
which his wicked wife had known
how to deceive.
"I'm afraid I've married Jealous
monster" said she in reply sadly
and then with an assumption of cour-
age: "Still, there it is, and / ex-
pect ] must make the best of it.
Anyhow, if you aren't going in to
dinner, I am. You'd better take a
stroll. The exercise will calm you
and pull you together
"Smiled at the man! :" How grotes
que. She had never smiled at the
man. She had smiled at the room,
smiled generally-nothing more. Tic
man was absolutely nothing TO her.
Must she scowl TO please Phil? Hell
had gone clean off his lead. She had
always suspected that he was inclined
to be a bit jealous; but this scene
was indeed too much. II was incredi-
bic, tragic. catastrophe. 1t was the
ruin of all her chances of happiness.
She thought of the wedGing-onlv
the other day, and Of his tenderness
end his passion. she turned away
with fixed. expressionless smile to-
ward the diningroOm. She would see
the thing through. She would eat
and drink, though 81, choked for il.
She did not guess that if she had
burst into tears and fled upstairs he
would have followed her, furious at
firSt-and then contrite.
Philip watched her depart. His
hand behind him touched blipd-cord.
He pulled at it. and it broke, and a
large blind ratified down with a noise
astonishingly like thunder. A stout
cord, a cord nearly quarter of an
inch in diameter, and he had Che
thought scarcely touched it: and yet
it had broken between his fingers
as a bit of cotton might have broken
The noise and confusion of the blind
seemed to him somehow to symbolic
what had happened to his marriage.
He suddenly felt exhausted and also
frightened. He was quite alone.
Ethel had disappeared into the dis
tant dining-room. The whole brood
ing expanse of the deserted lounge
lay between him and humanity. He
ought according to his own code to
have sworn and ragged manfully. But
there was no occasion to keep up APP
pearances. and he moaned TO himself
weakly, despairingly:
''0h dear! Oh dear, Oh dear"
Then he was aware in the gloom of
a face peering at him round the flap
of a huge easy-chair that was slightly
turned from the direction of the win
dow. He was not alone, He had
not been alone! This episode from
beginning TO end had had an unseen,
unguessed spectator. Philip, discoun-
tenanced and wondering how he ought
to behave in the very startling circum-
stances, did not move.
Il know exactly how you feel"
said the spectator in a quiet. worn
voice. and so naturally, so simply and
amicably that Philip could not take
offense at the unhearL-of familiarity.
The man rose from his chair and
slowly approached Philip and stood
close to him. A little gray-haired man.
apparently about sixty. Philip had
seen him once or twice in the hotel:
he always came very late into the
'dining-roOm for meals. eating by him
self. He was well-dressed and of good |
department, and yet there was some
thing queer, disconcerting, about him
about his demeanor. his accent, and |
ahnut tba vary ouolifv of his voice