The Waterbury Democrat., 1932-07-08

hear from your Herr Meyer? So he Is in America, Is he? And he does- n't write, dare say. And he hasn't an office. And do you suppose for one moment that this-this Herr Meyer will ever turn up again with your on-inflammable film? That's enough. May, I have had enough of the man. There Is no object in getting exasperated over his idiocy That's enough.
 Martin, was not acquainted with Herr Lyssenhop's apoplectic dis position, felt that he was confront ed by an earthquake. volcanic eruption, or a cosmic catastrophe. May, who was more inured to such 100, I'll not listen," Tat ragged. outbreaks ,said gently. But listen. Tat
 II will not listen. I have heard enough. A swimming instructor. That's all very well. No money torn shoes, penniless, and out of job-very well. Anything may hap pen. He might get on. It is not hopeless. But, May stupidity is hopeless. Stupidity is absolutely and entirely hopeless. You've done for yourself, Herr Hell. with your Mey- CT. For me that's final. A penniless man might have my daughter if there was nothing else for 1t. But an idito-never. Ring for Eggen- hofer to take this trunk. Not an- other word. You'll hold your tongue, May, if you please. ..." May held her tongue, She knew her Tat. But Martin, who was wounded to the quick, not by the rudeness to himself but by the tone in which May had been spok- en to, could not hold his tongue. '"Herr Lyssenhop," he said, you're in a bad humor. You have every reason to be. You have been taken in by a swindler merely be- cause he came the count over you, | and so now you're in a temper with everything and trust nobody. am not man of the world and I am not business man. But I have my wits about me even though you take me for an idiot. As soon as set eyes on the count said; That mans swine.' I said it to Anikuschka straight off. And say of Meyer-He's an honest man. We shall see who's right"
 We shall see nothing of the kind," shouted Herr Lyssenhop, reused to the highest pitch of ex- | citement and touched in a tender | spot by the mention of Anikuschka We shall see nothing at all. l wish to hear no more of you. for bid you, May, do you hear me, to have any more to do with him. Call me what you like the day you see Herr Meyer again. You can have May and my whole business if he ever shows himself again with your film. Enough. Eggenhofer, take this trunk down. Hold your tongue, May. Not a word. There have been nothing but vexations in this cursed Frauensee, and this is teh last one. Is it raining still? Of urse. .'' | These were the last -'ords Martin heard Herr Lyssenhop say. The
 rest came only in a confused rum-
 ble from the stairs. Herr Lyssen-
 hop, with one arm in his motoring
 coat, had grasped May with the
 other and pushed her through the
 door. A little cigar smoke was all that remained in the hotel bedroom
 and a crumpled newspaper on
 which were figures and formulas.
 Martin smoothed it out and absent mindedly put it in. his pocket.
 l TIC COulQ AOI LAAlh uiuSh 0o AhC went down the stairs in the wake of Fats echoing storm of anger.
 As he went in his confused state round the dark corner near the l'reading room, two arms in leather sleeves were flung round him and eager, trembling lips were pressed against his clenched teeth.
 '"Carla," he said, weak and alarm l ed.
 "No, May was the answer as she tore herself away. Immediate iy after the motorcar outside went quickly off. Martin, reaching the entrance in a few steps, found mo- thing but a cloud of gasoline fume.
 After Lyssenhops left. Martin passed vacant days, days suspended over Q void in a way that made him sick and dizzy. There was mo- thing to look to. Nothing to carry him along, nothing to rest upon. Martin was like child gazing after a balloon that has escaped from it's hands. He stared in dismay at a world where such things could hap pen. It was an altogether hateful and unSatiSfa ctory world ever since May had been snatched away from 1t. Frauensee was a horror, de- sert. An evening stroll to the Zir- bitz in memory of past occasions came to no good. It ended in an unmanly torrent of tears against which he clenched his teeth in vain.
 All the same, life went on. He continued to train, in spite of being disqualified. In fact, just because he was. He wished to establish re- cord for his own private satisfac- tion, from mere obstinacy and in
 revenge and self-vindication. And he had to eat. And there was the letter from Henry Meyer to wait | for. Such was Martin Heirs daily round after May left. She was no doubt very competent at Eng fish commercial correspondence,
 but she seemed to have little apti- tude for love-letters. How was this unsentimental, unceremonious. and
 ruthlessly self-contained outdoor girl to write love-letters? She act
 ually sent him picture postcards.
 Sometimes, too, 6 few lines in
 thin gray envelope. The Lyssen-
 hops were travelling in the Dolo- mites apparently. T think of you"
 wrote May. Lots of love-" Or Pity you're not with us. A kiss from your May" In one letter she said: ''We will both come here next sum-
 mer. It is perfectly lovely. Always your own."
 Mart in put these letters and
 postcards in his drawer near the medal of real silver. From this same drawer he withdrew his now purposeless savings-the hard-won seven schillings--and took his shoes to be soied. For three days he had to go about in old gymnasium shoes, which was the more annoy ing as during these three days 1t rained without stopping. On the fourth day he went In his mended shoes to schwoissha ckefs restau. | .a..t n..A .An~t what xVaR laft ON so