Indianapolis Times, Volume 37, Number 286, Indianapolis, Marion County, 1 April 1926 — Page 12

PAGE 12

SANDY

SANDY McNEIL. In love with life, marries BEN MURILLO. a rich Italian, to please her impoverished family. Tyranny by Murillo and frequent quarrels follow. A son dies at birth. 808 McNEIL. her unde aids in plans for Sandy and her mother to take a trip to Honolulu. There Bhe meets RAMON WORTH, who saves her life in the surf. On the same steamer home he declares his love. Murillo says he will never release her. JUDITH MOORE, a cousin, tells Sandy love is everything. Murillo overtakes her as 6he goes for a tryst ”'ith Ramon. He appears unexpectedly, a, a party she is giving for her friends. After the party he strilles her. She leaves his house and accepts the kindly attentions of Ramon, whose home she shares. She receives a telegram from Ramon, whose work keeps him in tha city. He comes to see her and spends the night at his home. GO O NWITH THE STORY FROM HERE. CHAPTER LIX In that way the pathetic and tragic relationship began. Sandy went alone along the water’s edge. A white, ragged cloud left from the storm drifted on the blue horizon line....far out between the crystalline sky and the sea dazzling and serene in the clear March sun. She watched the cloud floating onward. With her young face uplifted and the breeze flirting through her hair, she looked with a figure of springtime. And she now said resolutely, her lips smiling: “I’m happy!” But she could no longer see the sky because of tears rushing to her eyes. Then Ramon came. She kept her face toward the water, knowing that he looked at her in that intent, worshiping way, glad for the gentleness of his arm about her. ‘‘The storm is gone, Ramon. How clean the ocean seems.” ‘‘Why did you steal out alone, Sandy?” ‘‘l knew you’d follow." ‘‘No. Look at me. Your eyes are wet.” “Os course! The spray—it stings. I love that. I’d like to swim out there.... “It’s too cold.” “I’d like it—the coldness....” She smiled. “I’d like to plunge into it.” She put her hand in his, drawing the arm closer. “I wish we could both swim far out there, Ramon — get away from everything.” “We are away from everything now, Sandy. You and I are together and alone —away from everything.” His face rapt and pale, smiled down on hers. “Nothing that I want —only you—nothing that counts — only you. Oh, my dear —” She listened with warm, thundering heart and again tears rushed to her eyes. Beautiful—tender and beautiful to be loved like this. To be standing here on the white, gleaming sands, they two alone - two being turned against a,ll the world. Brave and beautiful! Better than anything she had ever known— She remembered with a flush the wild sweetness of his voice: “Darling—darling—” and that he had knelt, covering her hands with kisses; that he had buried his worshiping face in her palms. She wouldn’t weep—she had no cause to weep. She would reach out fearlessly and take his sweetness —go along gaily these few days they stole together—don’t think —tomorrow one can always think. * * * They took long walks. They drove along the shore. When the sun came out warm and bright they went into the sea—racing in—racing out. They ran along the white sands to shake off the chill of tiie waters. Sandy shook out the shining hair. She laughed when Ramon lowered hip wet face to hers. She threw back her head, smiling: “I’m glad, Ramon! Glad for everything. Oh, are those tears In your eyes? Are you laughing or crying?” “Both, dearest —both—” She whispered to herself: “It’s the truth! I’m glad! I don’t feel any different. Why should I?” And

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sometimes with a pang of bitterness: “Why should I? What had I to lose?” And finding that warm, tender look fixed In her face, finding the sunny, brown eyes following her so eagerly, she became frightened. She told herself: “I have a right to this! Little enough! He loves me.” When they sat before the fire, he held her hands. He told her they were married —this was their home. Then thoughts flashed through her mind like knives. She would imagine her mother opening the door — the shock and terror of her mother’s eyes. She covered her face, pressing it against his shoulder. “So you have to go tomorrow?” “I won’t go tomorrow', Sandy.” “The next day. What shall I do alone?” * • • So he put it .off day after day. A week passed. Sunset. They stood on the cliff against the gnarled, lone cypress tree. Far out, the sun w r as a blood-red chalice floating on the sea. He held her in his arms. He turned her face upward, kissing it. His bronzed, happy face had a quiet austerity—a drawn, suffering look. The farewell moment here now with the hush of the twilight folding down and about them from every hill and tree. “Promise me, Sandy—Sandy darling, that you won’t regret... .you won’t give way to sadness when I’m gone.” “I w r on’t.” “When you're alone —but I w - on’t leave you very long. I'm afraid of that for you. I’ll return soon to stay—to stay always. I wish it were I that were to bear it all. I could fill the time. I could fill an eternity thinking of you—longing for you. Put your arms about me. Say i you care like that—say you care almost like that. Do you?” “I care for you, Ramon.” “And you will marry me, Sandy?” “Plow can I? Oh, you know.” “I don’t care for myself. Only for you. I want you on any terms. Any at all. And jou?” She reached up her hands, held his face a moment, then drew it down to hers. “Don't look so, Ramon. You frighten me. Laugh. I like you most when you're laughing. I won’t regret. Why should I? It’s better and sweeter and finer than anything I’ve known.” “You mean all of that, Sandy? As though we were married. As though you are my wife?” She kissed him with white, somber lips. She silenced him with her lips on his. They walked in silence back to the house. * * * Alone again. The nights with the ! dog coming up with an inquiring j ba.rk, resting his head for an impul j sive moment on her knee —the days walking along the beach, staring at the dazzling blueness —sitting on the white, gleaming dunes. It seemed to her that she could never draw a free, easy breath. She moved about tightened—burning and excited. She flung her head back and said aloud: “I’m glad. I don't regret. I do not!” And she took refuge in the memory of Ramon’s eyes, worshiping and tender. When had any other ever looked at her so? When hay any other been all sweetness — all gentleness? She asked with trembling lips. She said: “They want me to go back to him. Because he’s my husband! And that makes any infamy respectable. But I won't. I know what a fine, beautiful love can be. I know!” And then she felt a withering scorn for the sham her two years of marriage had been. She turned with a multinous resentment from the convention that would whitewash the ignominy of these years. She told herself: “I’ve done it!

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I’m free of them —all!” She closed her eyes and laughed hotly, wondering what Alice would say—what her mother would say. Ono day she wrote to Isabel —a long, tender letter, but very definite—almost stark in its emphasis ... odd, childish phrases crept into its finality. "Oh, Isabel, I don’t see how you can say such a thing—say it in that cold, ruthless way. You would take a stand against mo ... You want me to go back even knowing that he might kill me. He might! It’s not hysterical to write this. ... "Well, if you stand against me, then I’ll have to bear it. Because I’m never returning to him—never. I’m out on my own now' —I can earn and that’s what I’m going to do as long as I live. I think you should want me to be free. I’m only 21, and you think I ought to have nothing hut desolation all the days of my life, do you? I shouldn’t think that’s very mother-like. "But if I can’t go free—at least I can live in peace. If I had a child and any man treated her as he treated me I w r ould fight for her to the end of time. And I’d want her to know w'hat gladness could be. I love you, Isabel, and it breaks my heart to have to stay away always. But I’m going to. My plans are all very carefully worked out—l know just what I’m going to do—” She paused here. She gave a low, shaky laugh, seeing herself an exile, shut off on this lonely coast with the days and days of solitary wandering up\and down the beach—in

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and out of the forest—hours sitting in the dunes. ... "That's my life!" she thought, hot heart thumping in terror. “From now on!” (To Be Continued) BISHOP WILL LECTURE Former I>e Fauw Head to Speak a< Greencastle. Bv Times Special GREENCASTLE, Ind., April I. Bishop George Richmond Grose of Shanghai, China, former De Pauw University president, who returned to the United States last week, will deliver the Hosrizon lecture series here this year, Dr. Lemuel H. Murlln, president, has announced. The former president will be in this country several weeks attending church conferences, and will spend a week in Greencastle as guest of the university. Date for the lecture has not been fixed. The lectureship on political science and history was

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APRIL 1, 1920

BOWMAN SEEKS JUSTICE Arthur M. Bowman, 108 W. North St., today announced his candidacy for the Republican nomination for justice of the peace of Center Township. He said he Is nn "anti-Coffin candidate.” For the past four years Bowman has been a constable. Ho Is said to he a memlier of the Odd Fellows und the Ku-Klux Ivlan.