Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1929-11-03


memory discarded those later days when he
had ceased to desire her or to love her. and
chung tenaciouSly to the rest
In the morning she would have forgotten,
but she would be happy She would fetch
from the trunk some terrible bit of velvet
and a cluster of flowers and make herself a
hat, and when it was made they would 60
out for the daily walk, the flowers bobbing,
people staring, and a little song in her heart.
CHE did not know that what she had gained
was reinsurance; the belief that she could
still hold her own man. For that too, was a
part of the fiction between them, built so
carefully that now they believed it; that each
was still attractive to the other SEX that the
men who stared at her curiously needed but
look to follow her, that the young women who
eyed him as q relic of some queer past were
predatory creatures, bent on Turing him from
her.
That's rather a pretty girl, darling" he
would say.
She's trife fat, don't you think?"
Or:
THAT'S an interesting man."
"He's not gentleman"
''Why?"
'I- don't like the way he looked at you"
She would be secretly delighted and at the
next turning Of the path she would glance
back. Casually: oh, very casually, but she never
stick almost violently. Once she was quite
certain that the person who was not gentle
man had halted and was gazing after them.
Perhaps 1t was because they were so entirely
alone. There had never been any children, and
they had no money for friends There were
even no relatives Here and there over the
country there were graves they had never
seen, and in the graves lay their past.
The present, bit of the future and each
other-that was all they had. And they were
always together; even in the apartment hardly
more than an arms length away.
When his joints stiffened it often seemed
that the lniment had been applied to her, and
when her head ached he too inhaled the mem
thOl. II she fancied minced chicken he ate IT,
although he loathed 1t, and when he craved q
boiled dinner she ordered it from the restau-
rant below and ungrumblingly shared it.
All their possessions they shared save their
clothes; indeed, each had but one possession.
She had her vanity box and he had his revolver
On Saturday nights he wound the clock, and on
Sunday mornings he cleaned his revolver.
She fixed the card table before him, and he
took the revolver apart and worked with it.
Because she was afraid of firearms she would
retreat into the bedroom and later on she would
open the door crack
Have you finished?"
"An finished. Come in"
He would hold the box-it was in velvet
lined mahogany box-in his hands and like
those occasional memories Of hers at night, the
holding Of the box gave him renewed confidence
in himself He felt masculine and strong and
dangerous 1t was as though he said:
"See, am still a man. There is death in my
hands. Beware of me. Be careful"
Not until 1t was on the shelf above the books
did she seem to relax again.
But she was not really afraid of firearms. She
only pretended to be.
One Winter he developed bad knee She
put cloths soaked in arnica on it, but there it
n1wzE.l =
about She never left him, except once in two
weeks to get her hair retouched. 1t was dyed SO
black that it had to be watched carefully
Not that they admitted to each other the pur-
port of these absences of hers.
I'm have to go downtown today for an hour
or two dear"
IAN right honey"
ST have some eFrands."
Then you had. better have some money"
On the retouching days he would give her SIS
or So but every three months or maybe less he
would give her $40. When she came back he
would not refer to any change in her. but he
would tell her she was beautiful
Beautiful, and the light of my soul"
She would be filled with love and thankful
ness that he was hers again, that he was stin
faithful, that she was holding him. For the next
Few days, II she grew warm, there would be
heavy odor Of dye over the rooms, but she was
so accustomed to it that she did not notice it.
So now and then she left him. and because
he liked to read to her, he did not read when
she was gone. He sat and watched the clock or
looked out Of the window, where the children
and the nursemaids walkad In the park, and
made him feel-when she was away from him
so old.
He had no particular memories to fall back
on save tragic ones. best forgotten, and he re-
fused to look ahead. Not in the daylight, any
how. Now and then in the night, when the
pain kept him awake, the future came like a
demon and sat on the foot of the bed and told