The Daily Alaska empire., 1929-10-25

l choking cry.
 Get out, Ray Get out before you make me hate you more than I do already. You've a perfect right to leave me but you've no right to stand there torturing me as you're | doing now!" s3 That night a distraught Ray paced up and down in his room. miSerably going over the whole scene in his mind Wretchedly he wondered how he managed to make such a mess of things. His intention had been to discuss the whole situation sensibly. Instead he had bungled it, hopelessly, ir- lreparably. Now, in all probabil- ity he had sacrificed her love, pre- vented all possibility of future reconciliation.
 His last glimpse of Barbara tor tured him. The memory of the forlorn droop of her shoulders, the littleness of her in her short white evening gown, almost melted his resolution. A dozen times he open ed the door, half impelled to go down to her.
 But each time he realized before he had reached the staircase that such an action would mean re- nouncing everything for which he fought. It would mean giving in to her entirely all along the line. Surely, he argued, if she loved him at all, she should see the humiliation of his present post q tion and would wait until he felt entitled to claim her. hl In an endeayor to distract his mind he picked up his alto saxoS phone and commenced to play For some time he was not actively conscious of what he played buts a decided melody seemed to emerge from the chaos of notes. [ Soon he found words fitting them selves in with the tune, words that 1 seemed to have been born in his brain without any effort on his [ part.
 T could not believe,
 That could ever grieDe . 's.E
 But I'De got those grieOin' o9riI
 Grievin' cause I'm 1eaDin' blues. !
 I may 90 at0dy,
 But I'll be back some duy,
 With those grieDin, leapin',
 grteDin' blues.
 "I'ni singing.
 Wind, ,vind,
 Blo,o mp grieuin' blues apay.
 Wind, toind,
 Bloto nay S,Deetie back today, !
 Bloio her message,
 4 messaoe from me,
 Tell her Pm sorry as can be, Wind stop pour groanin'
 Wind stop your noanin'
 And blo,o my grievin' blues
 u,0ay.":
 Below in the drawing room the notes of the saxophone drifted faintly down to Barbara where she sat huddled in an armchair too miserable to cry She had been thinking how, at times, your very love for a person makes you more capable of misunderstanding them. of hurting them.
 Suddenly she raised her head and listened incredulously. Could it be Ray playing his saxophone. playing at time like this?
 As the notes became louder. more definite, she sprang to her feet with 3 choked cry of heartache andi rage, b ating one clinched fist against the palm of her hand. Of all that she had endured from him that night, this seemed the final in- suit! How little he must feel their parting if he could play jazz in this brazen manner right in her very home!
 She conceived in that moment an intense hatred for that saxophone of his, almost as though it had been human. She longed to lav her hands on it, to break it, tol smash 1t to bits. She had a fam |. tastic notion that it was at the root of the whole awful misunder- Il standing.
 She stood there, straining her ears to listen, wilfully torturing herself. Each note seeming like a knife thrust, she was almost con- scious of actual physical pain.
 She endured it, how long she did not know, her nerves ragged, untill1 the telephone bell rang out shrilly II momentarily wning the iazz II above her. Il
 Copyright, Dial Press) II
 A telephone call definiteIv