Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1931-04-26

now? He wondered ct the sight Of the special
lists name on the letteFhead He couldn't have
thought up a few new last-minute restrictions
that might give one q couple more weeks, could
he? And he slit the envelope.
He read the message several times through
before It's fun import registered upon his brain.
Did yea get bad news in that letter Philip"
At the anxiety in Barbaras voice, coming, it
seemed. from some immeasurably remote dis
lance he collected himself.
mo dear" he answered evenly "Just some
thing that made me-think." And tearing it
twice across, he dropped IL into the waste
basket.
The letter that he had been expecting fur
nished a pretext for an early departure. But
he didn't 60 into town. He turned instead in
the opposite direction along the road which
bordered the great river, finding at last q spot
where he could drive down to the very edge Of
1t, moving majestically past, unhurried and un-
troubled by the little problems Of so feeting q
thing as man.
The hope Of life, to one who has renounced
1t. Is sweet-and the specialists letter had con-
tanned Just that. And not mere hfe-health,
too. which was sweeter. A most egregious mis-
take had been made In the office file, 1t ap-
peared, the record card Of Philip Harding hay-
ing been confused with that Of one Proctor
Harding, with the lamentable result that the
formers diagnosis had been given to the latter,
and vice versa.
For Philip Harding there was, II seemed, q
chanee-n he took II; . delicate and dangerous
operation, performed with any degree Of Sue
cess by but one man, an extraordinary genius
in Vienna. The recovery-n recovery took
plaee-would be long and slow and painful.
But it would be complete. II Mr.. Harding
cared to take the chance. the specialist recon-
mended that he do so without delay.
Every word Of the typewriter page was
scared into Philips memory He was rereading
it now with the eyes of his mind, even as the
eyes Of his body followed the gyTating progress
Of q fragment of driftwood down the languid
brown current. It is one thing to accept a
death sentence when one has no choice; to re-
gard calmly the prospect Of annihilation when
there Is nothing else. But
DeathEwith Barbara till the last Life!-
without her. For it would take all he possessed
to finance such an operation-of that he was
certain; and complete dependence upon Bar
baras plenty through Q long and trying conva-
lescence was even less reconctlable with his
code than the semi-dependence which had been
unthtnkanle for 10 years. But without
Barbara, what use the life and health that
were offered?
And the other way? Again there surged up
within him that sense Of citation In his lack Of
fear or hesitation. There could, Of course, be
no possible question in the last analysis. q.
Six months-and Barbara.
That night he presented himself again In the
familiar Office which in the brief 10 days that
had elapsed had managed 10 become 50 remote
and notwithstanding. cold and white. with
its not unpleasant odor Of antisepties, its
starehy nurses. It's gray-haiFed. crisp jacketed
genius.
"Of course you doubtless have your own rea-
sons" said the great man slowly as he tapped
% "a. SO 'ss4 4 49, -" - -.