Plentywood herald. [volume] (Plentywood, Mont.) 1908-current, 1931-05-07

pleasure of people comfortably situ-
ated. for Divorces who are rich-or
who are able to imagine themselves
rich for a night. And 1t is almost as
important a landmark of Reno's rest
less divorce colony as Is the Washoe
county court house.
Men, all sorts of men, come there
to gamble at dice, roulette, faro, or
blackjack, to drink at the long ma
hogany bar, or to dance, With lovely,
lonely women who are serving their
three months required legal residence
for a new freedom from marriage.
Women come there to remember or TO
forget, to regret or to hope, TO dance,
TO see. Or to be seen.
AT midnight, as she sat across from
Richard Hamilton at a small table in
a booth in the ballroom, Helen Mark
ley appreciated the romantic setting.
And determined grimly to make use OF
it.
The jazz orchestra played crooningly
and the couple shuffled dreamily in the
diffused, tinted light. Walters glided
between the tables with drinks-wine,
cocktails, highballs, rickeys, fixes,
whisky straight. Conversations blend
ed in muted overtones punctuated with
dreamy laughter.
From the gaming room came the
professional argot of the dice men:
Coming out. Gentlemen, make your
bets" His point is nine" Five.
Five in the field. Pays twenty. And
fifty" Eleven. Pays one hundred
and eighty for five dollars" The chink
OF the heavy iron wheel" dollars,
Nine. And he makes his point. Com
ing out. Gentlemen, make your bets
And the orchestra singing:
THE noon is low,
The stars up above,
And this is the night
To tell you of love-"
Hamilton's slow drawl reached her
through the music.
Look here, Helen. Do you suppose
it would interest you to marry me?'
She felt the thrill of the hunter
who has bagged quarry. But there
was no sign of it in the lazy, amused
smile with which her attention turned
to him.
Richard Hamilton, sitting there
anxiously smiling and m%oistening his
lips, had no suspicion that he had al
ready been chosen. He was an OLD
man who refused to recognize it, a
gentleman, handsome after a distin-
guished, elderly fashion. His gray hair
was smoothed to sickness. His clear
skin was like a wax parchment. His
brown eyes, shining with the echoes OF
many passions, his sensual mouth, full
of little bright teeth, and his small
pointed ears all betrayed the Satyr in
him. His figure was slender and car
ried straightly. He maintained strenu-
ously in his own heart that he was In
his very prime. He was many years
past it. His preoccupation was woman
and he was in Reno to divorce his
third wife, Alice Parr, the beautiful
Broadway actress who was young
enough to be his daughter-and to love
too often and too publicly.
Helen Markley's lazy smile grew into
an excited laugh.
you're narQly tact1ul, Sne
reminded him, with neither of us d.
vorced yet. I suppose I'll marry some
day. But why the hurry? There's
lots of time"
There isn't" He solemnly assured
her. "One thinks there is and then
suddenly, one is old" His eyes sad
dened as they looked back upon the IT.
remediable loiterings of his WI past
And you, my dear, are so adorably
young. Will you marry me?"
Her glance fluttered timidly about
him. Yet it took in every detail Of
his person. He must be sixty-f1ve OF
more, older than a grandfather, but
he represented silk for her to wear
luxurious surroundings for her to live
in, and a crammed bank book Of hel
own.
But / don't love you" She told him
with desperate honesty. II like you
Richard, but I am sure I'll never love
you"
(TO hn continued