Evening star., 1925-06-14
One of a series of the
years best short
stories.

| casually and just tell 1t as one tells an
| anecdote. A good Joke. A bad joke,
rather. Yes, tomorrow. That was de-
ctded. Nothing more to think about 1t.
| But, began a small and insinuating
voice in him. was 1t really quite fair
to his friends, who had shown him
nothing but the most unselfish kind
ness. to trouble them. hurt them,
worry them? If that Loutre affair
was burden. why not carry that
burden silently and alone? He hated
to go to Nancy. He hated to be an
editor. He wanted to live in Paris
gay. carefree, irresponsible. writing
little fantastic things and amusing
himself in his own solitary way. Well,
then he would atone for whatever he
had failed by foregoing his preferences
and leading the life that was expected
of him. When he came so far in his
| reasoning he got furious. That's
l.Loutre," he shouted to himself. Tries
to get around me this way. I'll fool
| him yet. I'm going to tell"
But the days passed and he did not
| tell. In fact. he kept away from Mon
dell as well as from the Comtesse till
the time arrived when the contract
with M. Du Fayel had to be signed.
III tell them then and there, de-
eide Aristide while he dressed to go
to the Comtesse. when they are all
assembled. III tell them. Plain out"
But he felt very miserable and some
how he did not believe in himself any
more. He found more guests than he
he had expected at the comtesse's
house, academicians, writer's. artists,
men Of finance and business. and he
felt 1t was impossible for him to make
scene in these surroundings and
under these circumstances. Moodily
he stood around, answering absent
mindedly flattering remarks addressed
to him, wondering what to do, wonder
Ing II there was still anything he
could do. And suddenly the spirit of
the old Aristide awakened In him, the
old Aristide who had always found
way out, who had been equal to every
emergency of the moment; gay
scoundrel. happy, carefree and re-
sourceful; infinitely more human than
the new. rich. famous Aristide who
had everything heaven could grant
and yet was not In heaven. And this
old Aristtde whispered to him. why
not clear out? Just simply go away
without an explanation, without any
confession, without any fuss, leaving
Loutre and the others to deal with this
disappearance as well as they could?"
Artstide flushed with pleasure at the
idea. God, why had he not sooner
thought Of this? Why not sooner
found this escape? A word came into
his mind-Touraine-an he had in
flash the vision Of q clear blue sky,
the fresh winds of heaven, green
young things scenting the air with
the breath of Spring. the murmurs of
running water, and he himself wander
Ing. free and unfettered once more.
wherever his fancy led him. Clear
out-that was the thing. There lay
his salvation. He> moved toward the
door OF the salon, gained the next
room, and was reaching the hall when
he was confronted by the comtesse,
who, following a strange impulse,
just as If somebody had warned her of
some danger, had left everything and
everybody and had hurried after him.
"Aristide," she said anxiously, what
are you doing here? You cannot alb.
sent yourself. The contract Is going
to be signed right now. Don't play
the fool. Come back with me.
want to introduce you to a score of
people"
Aristide stood still. The light went
out of his face. Well, he was trapped.
he couldn't do anything. Sullenly he
turned around and followed the COM
tesse, and while he did 80 he muttered
to an unseen presence:
IAN right. all right. i give in. You
win, lose. Games over"
He bowed right and left in a some.
what mechanical fashion. and went at
last obedfently to the table at which