Evening star., 1935-03-24


H. the bar of his club and walked to an
unoccupied table. He didn't wish to sit or
stand, and he didn't want the drink, but a
man has to do something in the few minutes
he has left in which he must decide about the
two women in his life - his wife and the
woman he loves.
He loved Alix, but he was going to give her
up. He wouldn't tell her that over the phone
of course. He would suggest their meeting
after dinner. That would prepare her. Face to
face, she might believe that he would always
love her, although she had said: Make up
your mind and call me. can take it - even if
can't take our going on like this any longer"
Her eyes had been brilliant but her voice
was cool. No melodramatics. Nothing about
his being the only man she ever loved and her
heart was broken. She had found herself at
the short end OF mans love. He could give
her his name now or he could leave her. He
admired her fortitude, even while wishing she
had clung to him, weeping a little, perhaps.
Oh well, you had to have scenes like that on
the stage or in the movies to give you your
moneys worth. In real life, people had
courage, as did Alix who was mature and
reasonable. 1t was too bad that Dora had
been 50 devoted to him. He couldn't give
her up.
''Oh, say - Blake! Won't you join us?"
He looked up to see Reinnald Adamsen
wave at him jocularly from an adjoining
table. where he sat with friends.
mot today, thanks" said Blake. Got to
make phone call. and then I'll be on my
way"
His mind went back to Dora painfully. He
owed all he had, everything he had become,
to her. But for her social graces that brought
big business men to his home and subtly
made them his friends he still would be in the
picayune, store of which he was merchandising
counsel when he met her. Dora was fragile,
delicately aloof. Men felt they had to look out
for her, protect her. They were warmed by her
sudden, grateful sweetness. In world natur-
ally taking to cocktails at four in the after
noon, men were dumbfounded when she
served old fashioned tea with hattery. They
Tapped up both Her house was like herself,
a picture of precise beauty, yet easy to live
with.
ut looks like something in House Beau-
tiful.'" rich men said admiringly. but you
can sit in the chairs, dammit. That's more
than can say for my own!'
Alx was like himself, Blake was sure,
wanting beauty and comfort. too. but untidy
about it. Cleanly. of course, but in clutter
of books, old magazines, flowers leaning
drunkenly in exquisite vases. rumpled Chintz
pillows on her divans. She had streaks of
being overcome by the absent minded tenor
of her ways Then she washed and busted
frantically, worked herself into bad head
ache and her house in order. When she
recovered. her house was wreck again. But
if she had been like Dora, he wouldn't have
loved her so much. Going to Alix was an
endearing experience, fun. They laughed lot.
1t gave him qualm now to think that going
home to Dora was like going to Mother.
Four O'Clock. Blake gulped the last of his
drink, went into the phone booth. Alix's line
was busy He emerged. relieved. He'd call her
again later He didn't know what to say now,
in spite of the fact he had had a day. He might
stutter tumble sound like an migrate when he
would want to assure her she need never
worry over finances. Not that he would say
all that over the phone, but he could imply
subtly he would look after her. So he leaned
against the booth, collecting his thoughts. He
could hear Adamsen' s voice booming earnestly
about Life:
T. just as the course of empire is FIRE.
quently changed by small happenings that ir
themselves have nothing to do with the gov
ernment of that empire, so does the course o.
human life change; not by tremendous emo
tional conflicts but by little things - some
small incident that so revolts the human sou
that it can no longer endure the pattern of it,
days. Lives hang upon single hair, | tel