Beverly banner. [volume] (Beverly, N.J.) 1877-1964, 1925-06-19

/ SAVhs OOAbPtOA as NOAfAd(C0s
The idea knocked him onto his
knees. He came half crawling. Stun
bling, struggling up toward her.
mo, mol No. no, Brena-for Gods
sake" he whimpered For the love
of Christ don't leave me !"
AT her feet he shampoded his hair
as in an imaginary basin until its
sparse growth had been rumpled I'M
der the palms of his clutching, witch
| ing hands.
"Well, then never speak of any
mystery trailing upon my heels" she
had said. "Never bring this insinua-
| ton that a curse follows me. You
have had your chance to be free of 1t
and instead of wanting me to go you
want me to stay. / loathe dramatics,
Compton. This is the Twentieth and
not the Twelfth century and those who
now attempt to raise superstitions
will fare badly If others believe as
do. Get up!"
He stood. With his eyes indicating
humiliation through the terror which
still fingered in his face, he arose and
walked toward the door.
Every well," he said at last In cold,
hard syllab.es "You shall not hear
of 1t again. Forget it. Call 1t a mad
and foolish thing My lips are sealed.
But the time will come. There are
stranger things In the world than you
know"
He closed the door and left her
alone, somewhat shaken; and In spite
of all that she had said, somewhat
eager to ask him more. If she had.
he would have pressed his thin lips
tight and said nothing. He did this on
later occasions. he had made up his
mind to wrestle with his fears. what
ever they might be, alone. His physi-
clan told Brena confidentially that
| Compton ParmaIee was suffering only
from a mild form of neurasthenia In
which dread had attached itself to
some particular chain of morbid
thoughts
In March Parmalee conceived the
idea that he was being followed. He
spoke of 1t several times and Brena
laughed.
"Why should any one follow your
she inquired scornfully. "You tell me
that you understand why | am fol-
lowed sometimes on my way home
from the studio, but cannot offer the
same explanation for you Come.
Compton, let's me sensible"
He was not amused.
"Then report it to the police" she
said
\
"The policeT'
Eyes"
what suggestion |"
| She heard no more, however, of his
morbid suspicion: no one was follow
Ing him she was convinced. And yet
the unknown terror, of which he would
now say nothing, infected her so that
the cloth of each day had woven into
1t some threads of fear In q crazy.
senseless, indlstict pattern.
| A crisis came on one of those warm
evenings which descend Eoddenly upon
the chill of the winter and tell of an
impatient, hasty. headlong spring.
which has crept up through the open
country and comes at dusk to the gates
of the cities. Some musical perform
| ance. long since forgotten by Brena.
took the pair out until nearly eleven
and Parmalee wanted to walk home
through the moonlight. A sleepy ele-
vator man took them up In a chaste.
white and gold car to their apartment
door.
Goodnight" said Brena. "Good-
night, Compton. You seemed tonight
more like yourself"
He laughed and waved to her as she
went down the corridor to her cham
bers She switched on the wall lights
of her dressing room, bedroom and
bath. and undressed leisurely before
the long mirror, looking about her as
her memory took her back to the hot
room under the roof at Mrs. Wilkes
with Its yellow vanished woodwork
and Its plaster walls. stained a hldeous
thermic orange, its little red ants that
no eradicator ever eradicated and the
screams of the baby coming out of
window In the next house. Nothing
in the luxurious quarters she now oc-
cupied could remind one of Mrs. VII.
kie's unless 1t were the picture OF the
Acropolis that had belonged to
Brena's father, still gin Its battered
frame and hanging above her bed.
And yet she stopped braidIng her red
bronze hair as one of those strange
calls of wistful longing for the past.
even for the tragic or the sordld past.
that comes to all Of us. came to her.
No one would credit her with re-
membering some few years afterward
the exact contents of her thoughts at
this moment, were 1t not a fact that
the thought itself had been interrupted
and therefore engraved by three quick
successive pistol shots.
They came and went as revolver
cracks do behind heavy closed doors
with muffled thudding: she knew
what they were. They were followed
by little crash as Of vase falling.