Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1929-09-18

stained everything else. 1t was my
bitter hatred for Carl Balloon. And
there was no use calling it unreason-
able or admitting that he had done
nothing except prove himself a better
man in Eleanor's eyes.
That had been possible once, but in
the present temper of life passion was
like coin-on one side love and fall
ing that, hate. His image haunted me
like a. mania. Even in town, but par
ticularly at GreyhouSe, could not be
rid Of the desire to try conclusions with
him somehow. The sense of my in
feriority maddened me, and more often,
more firmly the thought inSinuated
itself that a possible facile remedy was
at hand, If I cared to use it, and that
no one was better situated to use it
than I.
At all events, there was certain out
let in considering the matter and play
ing theoretically with the idea l had
access to every possible drug, but there
was also question as to whether bac-
terra might not prove more expedient.
My reputation placed me above suspi;
cton and I was known, moreover as a
friend of Balloons. Besides. he not in
frequently asked me to prescribe for
some trif1fng a.ilment, and I therefore
had every facility.
Not that meant to do such a thing.
It was as if my subconsciousness work
ed out plan and presented it, then,
being refused, elaborated another. It
was the rising of poison bubbles to the
surface, an obscure fermentation that
grew steadily more intense, harder to
control, even pleasant TO entertain.
Once, in flash of self-revelation,
found myself contrasting this state of
mind with my attitude of not two weeks
ago. 1t seemed years off, as when two
photographs of the same man are COM
pared, one taken in youth, the second
In age. But this impression was short
AVed; 1t faded into acquiescence.
What stung me particularly with re-
gard to Ballion was neither what he
did nor said, but his manner of amused
condescension. He had the trick of
watching me, as If prying into nv
thoughts to make game of them, or
searching for the hidden strings that
would make me jerk as he pleased. It
was a sort of probing irony, a subtle
bullying of my personality by his And
IN this he was perfectly successful. 1
felt myself shrink from his glance,
grew confused when talked with him
and showed myself in a most helpless
light. He turned me here and there,
SO to speak, Suavely exhibiting this
curious specimen to Eleanor and him
self
What his motives were I am unable
to conceive. Probably he found me
susceptible, and I imagine he was ac-
tually interested in exploring the re-
cesses OF what seemed to him an in
sorbed In any other problem. Besides,
1t required fine touch to play the fid-
die without making it squeak, to screw
1t up without swapping a cord-in other
words, to humiliate me and at the same
time leave no rejoinder possible.
But it was a dangerous game, given
the circumstances, given the sur
charged atmosphere we breathed And
the mental ferment persisted andCt the
cords of the human fiddle wore thin.
It reached a point where he seemed
to have made my thought his book,
turning the leaves of it. chuckling over
passage here, or calling Eleanor'S at
tentlon to another. One evening he re-
marked with smile: Il wonder what
girl Ames will marry. What is your
ideal Richard-what is it now?"
flushed and stammered and brought
out with sort of stupid dignity that
I wasn't prepared to say.
"Oh, well, then" he went on. "let
me tell you. III paint the portrait of
the future Mrs. Ames to t. You'll
to the blond and delicate and will be
perfectly educated-refined, modest, Sc
rious. Oh see Mrs. Ames so clearly,
doctor! Simply gowned-your slippers
warmed for you at evening. Above all.
she'll be eminently proper. F1irt?
Never!"
It seemed to me that the floor was
rising under me. saw Eleanor sup
pres& smile. Had they been laughing
at my expense over her msneuver of the
other evening? Was that one of their
secret Jokes? But what answer had I
in either case, If. she had told him or
not? Coolness it might be suggested;
sarcasm to sarcasm. But 1 was past
that; his fiddle-bow cut into the raw.
I sprang up.
What talk is this!" I said. what do
you mean by concerning yourself with
my affairs!" and stood speeches. and
convulsed at grope for words.
He. looked utterly amazed, removed
his pipe from his lips and stared at me.
Good heavens, man." he returned,
"what's wrong? beg your humble
pardon for insulting you-but I'd never
have expected such rage at praising the
virtue of your wife. It's our degenerate
times, Eleanor; they're really frightful.
But. dear fellow. now that know your
feelings I prophesy you'll marry a Sec
ond Messalina. Don't sulk"
And, spurned by his hard, bold eyes,
fancy became purpose. I resolved to
kill him, and. knowing that. Joined
Eleanor in her laugh and felt at ease
and a match for him.
your interest in my future wife almost
equals mine in yours. It's an exchange
of thoughtfulness. And it's good we
both agree that the times are degen-
crate"
For once something crept into his
eyes that / had not seen; for once a
vein showed across his forehead, and
for once he made no answer, but nod
ding slightly looked away
After a time I left them and went
into the library, with the intention of
actually on fire I suppose the damned
NAV burn in such invisible flames, but
with this difference-that relief through
action is denied them, whereas for me
there were plans I could make and
deed to be accomplished After that /
was careless about what happened;
until then I should have no relief.
On the whole, 1t was probable that
Eleanor had said nothing to Carl about
our affair of the other evening: From
the most perverse standpoint could
not imagine why she should. No doubt
ne had hit by chonce on the exposed
nerve. But, even If she had, could feel
toward her only half-hearted anger.
/ might repeat that I hated her. that
,he had stopped to low trickery for the
sake of foolish triumph. but knew
hat, at the first glance, the first smile.
LII this would be Cancelled. Indeed,
even cruelty and deceit harmoniZed
With her new self, the changed aspect
If our life and my own mood. l ad-