The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1925-07-24
CHAPTER XII

Peter De Wolfe drew long breath,
put the palms of his hands upon the
tightest area of his waistcoat over his
expanded chest, threw back his head
and exhaled so that it sounded a good
deal like a sigh.
"Weli," said he. THAT is not very
pretty story"
The lamp had gone out; the slate
gray light of early summer dawn FL
tered through the chintz curtains of
the apartment of Brena Selcoss She
was facing this watery light. her
beautiful hands folded liz. her lap. her
dark eyes looking into profound space.
In her attitude and in her expression
Peter saw the suggestion of one con-
demned, who has awakened upon the
day of execution and sits upon the
side of prison cot, thinking.
mo, Peter" Brena said at last. ut
is not pretty story"
"I'm sorry" he said, drawing his
chair nearer to hers, and leaning for
ward he took her hands in his. They
were cold as marble. She shivered as
one vino, having no sleep, feels the
dawn as wet shroud. After slow,
inquiring glance around the little
chambt'' where in variety of soft
ture and n the smaller things, some
thing of the rich diversity of herself
had ueen expressed, she at last looked
at Peter.
II know" said he. II am shaggy
brute. The room is cold-a kind of a
still, stagnant cold. I'll light the fire."
She did not protest: for the moment
her own will appeared inert She
watched him DULY as he put the Jumps
of soft coal into the typical London
CRATE and poked them meditatively
just as if he had been born an Eng
lishE.an and found that a soft-coal fire
was an entertainment as well as a
utility. She allowed him to lead her
to the little upholstered sofa which
he had pulled in front of the yellow
aside when they had come in, around
her shoulders and 20 put his hand
upon her throat and cheek as he
stood behind her still thinking.
THAT is an ugly story" he said, as
if determined that there might be no
question as to the premise upon which
his comments would be based.
Brena nodded. She said: "You can
see now, Peter, why the one moment
when your arms were about me and
your lips were on mine is the end. If
| knew l was free, Peter, l could not
see more of you. could not bear
the thought that you, too"
would be rubbed out?" he finished,
and laughed.
She did not answer.
"D-n 1.-THE thing is too absurd, too
picturesque"
He considered it a moment.
'Why, if there were anything in 1t,
Brena, dear one, it would be magniti-
cent !"
You forget that / have lived close
to this thing. You might believe, too,
if you had heard not my words but
the words of life ITSELF"
You've told me all?"
Brena, sensing the presence of a
doubt, rose, and, leaning upon the
manrel with her face bent down
toward the freight, waited for sew
eral moments before she said, YEARLY,
Yes, Peter-all"
And others knew?"
"Only Muriel Benham," she an
swered. 1T was when / was i'll. l
had fled from America 1t was ghast-
ly there and / had the-what can l
say?-the instinct for flight. | went
to France. There was pneumonia,
and after that found my little re-
treat in Beconshire Muriel was kind.
She attended to my mail. l did not
expect letter from Lanfrew-his law
yer. She read it. There was a refer
ence toto both-to both"
81 understand" said Peter. "You
explained little; you had to-"
He walked up and down the rug,
touching the repetitions of the pattern
with the toes of his shoes.
"How long has it been since he
went?" he asked.
"Oyar thrpa voarSo