The Washington times., 1931-12-05

Eont
A Story Of the Aftermath
Or the World War
CHAPTER 48

NKAk16 i GEb 10
Adolf Bethke has sold his
house and come to live in the
town.
After he took his wife back
to live with him again all went
well for awhile. He did his
work, she did hers, and it looked
as If things would be all right
again.
Then the village began to
whisper. When his wife would
60 down the street in the eve
ming, voices would call after
her; young men meeting her
would laugh impudently to her
face; women gathered up their
skirts with pointed gestures.
His wife never mentioned these
things to Adolf. But she wilteG
under it and grew daily paler.
With Adolf it was the same.
If he went to a pub, the converse
ton would Immediately stop; if
he visited anyone, he would be
received with an embarrassed ST.
lence. Yelled hints and oblique
questions were gradually ven-
tured. Over the cups coarse in
nuendoeS would be spoken and
after him would sound
mocking laughter. He did not
know quite what to do about it.
Why, thought he, should ne
be accountable to the whole
village for what was no mans
affair but his own? It tor
nented him; but neither did
Adolf speak of it to his wife.
And so they lived for some
time, till one Sunday evening
the pack of tormentors, grown
ventureSome, presumed to call
after his wife in Adolf's pres
ence. Adolf flared up. But she
put her hand on his arm. Don't
mind them; they do it so often
that now I don't hear any
more"
"Often, do they?"-Now at
last he understood why she had
become so silent. In a fury he
made a rush to catch one Of
the fellows that had called out,
but he vanished behind his COM
panions who presented a bar
ricade with their backs.
Home In Silence
They went home in silence.
Adolph stared into the darkness.
Then he heard a hushed, sub
dued sound; his wife was weep
ing. Don't worry, Marie" he
said gently, though they should
talk" But she cried on.
He felt helpless and alone.
He lit candle. Darkness stood
hostile at the window, and the
trees outside whispered like gos-
siping crones. Gently he laid
his hand on his wife's shoulder.
She looked at him, her eyes
filled with tears. "Ltet me go
away, Adolph; then they will
STOP"
She got up. In the candle
light her shadow staggered large
through the room, it slid across
the walls; and by contrast she
was small and frail in the feeble
light. Weird and gigantic, the
shadow reached out also, like
a noiseless fate that had stolen
in through the window out Of
the watchful darkness, and now
grotesque, distorted, and litter
ing, was mocking her every
movement. Soon he would fall
on his prey and drag her off
into the outer, droning darkness.
Adolph jumped up and pluck
ed the white muslin curtains
across the windows, as if there
by to shut off the low room
against the night that started in
through the black, rectangular
paneS.
Adolph saw II her eyes the
misery, the misery of dump Gre
alton, the misery of a stricken
animal, the forlorn, comfortless
misery Of those who cannot de-
fend themselves. He put his
arm about her shoulders. How
could anyone throw stones at
her? Did they not both mean
well? Why then should men
torment and hound them so
mercilesSly? He said: 1--WE will
go away from here, Marie" :" That