Plentywood herald. [volume] (Plentywood, Mont.) 1908-current, 1931-10-22
Portrait Of An Actor :

half-truths: finally compelled by tn
actors chilly, gray eyes, spoke tn
whole truth:
I'm terribly sorry. But I'm afrai,
your wife won't live out the night"
He went in. He sat down by Loretta
bedside, her wasted hands In his.
He bent over. He looked AZ her yer,
closely. A great pity-pity for her, To-
himself-stole upon his soul with
freezing touch.
"Loretta-dear, dear Loretta"
She smiled.
Il love your voice" she whispered.
Her W voice %splintered; broke int
a hacking, febrile cough.
You must not talk" he begged he,
must not tire yourself
Il shant tire myself-after tonigh
ever again . ."
Dim her accents-he thought-blur.
red, as if wiped owe by the hand o.
fate
lionel"
"YeS-?"
You rehearsed that last scene to.
day, didn't you? The death scene-?"
II did"
How did 1t go2"
"All right. I guess"
"No-no sob stuff p
Well. ="
Her giggle then. Her girlish little
giggle.
"O-Lionel-as a liar you're a com
plete washout! You were bad, weren't
you-and you sobbed. p
Yes"
I'm ashamed of you. You-you
mustn't fail in that death scene =. the
whole play stands or falls by iti''
"But-what a I do. -
You must-learnl"
She was silent: continued in a voice
like the faint ebbing of a tide:
"Lionel-you have always been a
~realist, haven't you?"
Yes. dear"
Because, always, you studied the
living model. So why not study-the
dying. ~"
mol" he cried; and his face was
ravaged.
mo, no, no, no, mol"
Her wasted hands gripped his with
amazing strength.
Why not?" she insisted. You are an
artist-and I am an artist-and we
promised each other, years ago, that
the theater must come first. We kept
this promise in the past. so why not
today? l helped you in the past. so
why not today? An with a strange,
high triumph-"I have helped you
helped you more than the other women.
In life l helped you. shall help you
in death Watch me, Lionel. watch me
and do not be afraid That is the
secret which you must learn-not to
fear death. For death can be beautiful
when life has been beautiful-as our
life has been, ~dear-yours and mine. >"
Silence.
He looked at his wife.
Death can be beautiful" he thought.
She had closed her eyes. Her accents
were very thin and faint:
II wish-O|I wish I could help you
-"
He stared at her; studied her white
features intensely.
you are helping me, dear" he whis-
pered. GOOD forgive me-you are
helping me. -"
queer, cracked, high-pitched sobs, as
old men cry. He did not hear the door
opening, the doctor and the nurse COM
ing in; did hear, a few minutes later,
the former saying, IN q voice that WAS
almost awed.
why, Miss O'ReiTy, the crisis-she
has passed it. It's-OIa miracle-in-
credible. -"
Miss O,Reilly was by way of being
Irish and devout.
81 fail to see," she commented severe
ly, why a miracle is incredible"
Then full comprehension davned
upon Lionel McDermott. He looked at
Loretta. A faint flush had come into
her cheeks. She was asleep; was breath
ing quite easily.
He rushed to the door
Look here" demanded the doctor
where are you going ~"
ITO the studio"
Buff your wife wakes up-and
asks for you. -"
Tell her that I have gone back to
rehearse that last scena. Tell her that
l have learned. Tell her that l shall
succeed. She will understand. 49,"
He ran out of the ROOM, and the
nurse shook her head.
His wife may understand L don't
Nor l."
Queer people-actors-arent they
-"
Damned queer" agreed the doctor
as he bent to take Loretta McDermott's
pulse
(The End