Beverly banner. [volume] (Beverly, N.J.) 1877-1964, 1925-05-15

upon the elbow by the dank, bony fin
gers of a corpse.
There is one evil passion which
think does more harm than all the
Others" he said, clasping his strong
hands over one knee. IT'S fear. 1t
Ought to be made crime"
you know nothing of fear" she re-
piled quietly. "You have not lived
with fear day in and day out-year
after year."
mo, l have not lived with fear at
ALL" he went on, looking straight into
her eyes. 81 have not lived with it
because it is parasite. / have been
wounded, but / learned that five
eighths of the pain was fear. / have
been apprehensive of some terrible
calamity and the fear was the major
part of the calamity. There are men
in the world in myriads who fear that
they may lose their money. Fear is
worse than poverty, Brena. For Gods
sake, let's not fear!"
81 did not say that had fear she
said Il only said | had lived with
fear'
1.-The world is a fool about fear"
Peter drove on. 1T makes towards
but it is also the mother"
"Of what?"
"Of murderers,' he said.
Brena was silent.
To Peter, as the day came to an end,
it became more and more plain that
she had indeed decided to go from
London. She spoke of it as If it were
a flight from some kind of danger.
Once she said, you are much too nice
to take any risks, Peter" He had
asked her about these risks, but she
said, among other risks, that of
wasting your energies on something
which leads nowhere" When they had
dined at a little cafe in Jermyn
street, she said. Come home with me.
No one sees US go in and out. 1t is
like nest hidden in an old stump. We
can talk and then"
"What?'
"Good-by. Goodnight. Good-by."
All the way up Regent street she
kept her arm through his as If she
feared that suddenly the mortal part
of him would melt away, as if this
contact might be made so real that it
would live ON in memory, and some
times the illusion of this strong fore
arm, warm through its sleeve, might
return to her.
The apartment, which she had re-
tanned without occupancy for some I'M
explained cause, was on a street of
colorless brick houses where three
street lamps, spaced with irritating
precision, spread their radiance on the
front walls in fan-shaped insolence.
1t was in a house at the far end of
this street-modest quarters for one
who appeared to have plenty of money
at her command; two flights of carpet
ed stairs led up to little landing and
her door.
She lit the lamp in the corner while
Peter took the key from the hole, and
the expanding light showed again the
gray and gold room with its chintz
curtains and its old English mahogany
and the carved desk with it's burly-
maple panels and the hangings woven
in Java at the windows. But Peter
closed the door gently with his foot
because he saw none of the room
where the light was dim. Once more
as when he had seen her first, she
stood beneath a light which poured
down upon her its flood, emphasizing
her as if she, of all the universe, had
the quality of radiance and life. She
had thrown aside her cloak; she
stood with an aura of eternal youth
about her, a girl who had come out of
the ages and would live on without
end, the center of all things. She
gazed back at Peter from her dark
eyes, wondering, waiting for him to
move.
He walked toward her slowly. but
without hesitation. In his face there
was a square look--the look of fixed
will that has come into its own at last.
"Brena. I'm going to break my prom
ise."