Indianapolis Times, Volume 41, Number 38, Indianapolis, Marion County, 25 June 1929 — Page 12

PAGE 12

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THIS HAS HAPPENED Because she is in love with her emplovar, JOHN CURTIS MORGAN, *ueres'sful lawver. NAN CARROLL, recretary. decides to resign. She Ungers however when she hears Morgan is to defend a supposed friend. BERT CRAWTORD. Nan suspects that Crawford ar.d IRIS MORGAN, wife of John Curtis Morgan, are lovers. After Crawford’s acquittal, he leaves at once, followed closely bv Iris. She w -lies Morgan she will never return to hi * cleverly omitting reference to Craw - ford. Nan saves Morgan from despair by directing him more deeply Into his work For six months she acts as long-distance housekeeper for him. winning the love of little Curtis, his son. and bringing comfort to a man who Ironically thinks only of another. Nan returns from her bar exams and Morgan tells her he has decided to divorce Iris. He proposes, and Nan marries him. _ . , They are prevented from going on their hone- moon by the arrival of DAVID BLACK HULL, accused of the murder of s Ic. . who begs Morgan to defend him Nan adds her entreaty and Morgan agrees. For thre months the farcical marriage continues. Nan believing Morgan cannot bar.lsh thoughts of Jr:s. and Morgan believing Nan marled him out of pity and love for little Curtis. Nan tells herself she can go on no longer In this manner. Hysterically she goes to her room to pack. She is cramming clothes into a suitcase when a low knock Interrupts h'." NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER XXXIV FOR the first time since she had come to occupy it three months before, John Curtis Morgan stepped into his wife’s bedroom. Nan, clinging to the knob, retreated slowly to make way for him. His face was flushed but grim with determination. He did not see the disorder of the room, the half-packed suitcase; his black eyes bored into hers. “Nan! Nan!” How thick and queer his voice was! “What did you mean, when you said. I was ‘stupid, blind’? Nan! Tell me!” he urged with curious violence. “I won’t tell you—anything!” she gasped, retreating from him until he banged against the wall. “I’ve got to know!” He was almost shouting at her. and the flush on his grim, lean face grew darker. “Did you mean—could you possibly mean—that you—love me?” Nan’s hands released the door knob, flew to her cheeks, pressed hard into them, but she did not try to hide her eyes from him. She had never looked so proud as she did In her moment of supreme humiliation. “Os course I love you!” Her nostrils and lips quivered. “Why did you think I married you?” Why was he staring at her so blankly, so incredulously? “And now that you've made me say it—go away, oh, go away! You might have left me my pride ” She whirled sharply away from him, but the next instant her small body was spun about again, but this time not in obedience to her will, but by the strength of his arms, a strength that for a moment threatened to crush in her ribs. Not that she felt the pain. “I—dont want—your pity!” she gasped against his coat. “Let me go—” “Pity?” he laughed, in a voice rough with emotion. “Oh. Nan!” Somehow' he shifted her so that her head lay in the crook of his right arm. Above her. coming closer and closer, were his black eyes, liquidly brilliant, wider than she had ever seen them. It was like trying to face twin suns. Blinded, she closed her own eyes. . . . A thousand times Nan had dreamed of his first kiss, and noun the learned what pallid things dreams can be beside the ectasy of reality. If he had released her when he lifted his head at last she would have fallen to the floor. But

THE NEW Saint-Sinner ByjfrmeJlustin cma sancLc*.

With a queer little smile twisting the corner of his mouth, Colin Grant came swinging down the narrow lunch room toward her, his long, thin body slouching. How could Harry Blaine say he was “not so blamed good-locking’ ? Crystal told herself, as her eyes drank him in greedily, that he was the most exciting person she had ever seen. What if his shock of black hair did need trimming? What if his clothes did need pressing, even cleaning? She would not change the slightest thing about him! “Hello! Swell yarn you had today, but you let yourself get into it too much. Good idea to forget there's an upper-case I on your typewriter.” he gretted her. as he swung out the chair opposite hers and dropped his long body into it. “Thanks—for both the praise and ‘he knock. I'll break the ‘l’ key on ny typewriter tomorrow,” Crystal answered, over the singing in her heart. If any one else had criticized her so brutally she would have wilted or flamed with anger, but even criticism from Colin Grant was precious. It proved he had been interested enough in her to read her stuff. "Don’t you want to hear about Callie?” "Oh—that,” he answered, his black eyes frowning at the greasy card. “I’ve already got the lowdown on the Callie story. Hiked over to Viaduct Lane when I turned in my last copy at 3. I gather from Callie that you and your Tony Tarver were angels of mercy. 1929 versions of Lady Bountiful, and—” “Oh!” Crvstal's face flamed. "We did not ac*- like that!” Cohn Grant grinned at her. “Callie's actual words, I believe, were that you and Tony Tarver were the best sports and the whitest white girls she had ever run across in her storm-tossed life. "By the way. I've already begun a short story about her—the penniless waitress 'in trouble’ who turned down a chance to marry Society's Sheik because, by golly, she found out she'd fallen out of love with him and didn't want him any more." “go—that's all Celhe means to you —another short story?” He grinned wider at her disgust. •What do you think?” Her heart melted. Her words came in a low, passionate outburst: 1 don’t think! I know! I know CaHie’s wretchedness broke your heart last night, and you’re trying

he did not release her. Oh, no, no! she exulted, as he held her head against his breast, so that she heard the deep, quick throbbing of his 1 heart. “Was that apity, Nan? ... At last," he laughed, his voice vibrating joyously, “we talk the same language. For three months I’ve | been telling myself that I didn't want your pity—that until you ‘ learned to love me I’d not touch you—Oh, Nan, my darling, what stupid, blind fools we’ve both been! Two supposedly intelligent adults, sick with love for each other, keeping each other at a distance.” B B B BUT a little later she had to defend herself against his charge, of course. “I don’t see how you can say I kept you at a distance,” she gasped jerkily, for her whole body was trembling. “You locked me out on our wedding night,” he reminded her gently. “I didn’t reproach you. How could I? I thought you had married me out of pity—and because you wanted to be a mother to my boy. : All that day I had felt like an ■ exiled king about to be led into a ; new kingdom—and then I was { banished again. I blamed only my- | self, not you. I tried to resign myj self to the truth—that no woman ‘ could love me. I blamed you no j more than I blamed—lris—” It was the first time that name ! had passed his lips since their wedding day. Nan turned in his arms and stared up at him, searching his eyes with the last flare-up of the old, sickening fear. No, thank God, the name had not brought back the shadow of pain to his beloved eyes. Nan summoned all her courage. They must speak of Iris now, or the name would forever stand a barrier between them. “I thought you still loved Iris,” she said steadily. He answered: I thought I did. too, until—l wanted to take my real wife in my arms and found the door locked against me.” “Oh!” The word was a little wail of pain She forced herself to confess: “I—that night—when you’d gone to see Nina Blackhull —” “You made me. go,” he reminded her. “I didn't care a damn about a murder case that night, but you’d held yourself aloof all day, and at dinner poor, funny little Curtis had said terrible things unconsciously—but go on. darling—” “You hadn’t kissed me,” Nan acciLsed him. “You hadn't even said you loved me, and —No, let me finish, John! When you had gone. I went into the library and there, among your law books, I found a book of poems. I read the one you'd been reading a few days, before, for you’d left a marker in it—■” “A poem?" he frowned, in apparently genuine bewilderment. Nan quoted that last dreadful stanza: ‘“And I shall find some girl, perperhaps. And a better one than you. With eyes as wise, but kindlier, And lips as soft, but true. And I daresay she will do’.” Her husband’s puzzled frown did not clear. “I never read any such poem, darling Nan —” “No? You don’t remember these lines, either?” she challenged, and gave him the first stanza: “ ‘Your hands, my dear, adorable, Your lips of tenderness

to ease the pain by writing it all out! “I know you're a sentimentalist, and you kid yourself you’re a stark realist, of the ‘Main Street'-and-garbage-can school. But you're not, you’re not! You are brimming with pity and—and love for people, and they break your heart almost every day of your life. “Then, because you're ashamed of your secret tears and of your pity, you write out the stories in the baldest sentences you can make, afraid even to put in an adjective for fear you’ll give yourself away—your tender heart that you’re so ashamed of! You—” “Guess I'd better have another cup of coffee to see me through this,” Colin grinned at her, but she did not miss the bright light of excitement in his eyes. They were not furious for the moment. “So you didn’t really like my book?” he asked with elaborate casualness, and Crystal was delighted to see that he had enough ordinary vanity to care. “Like it?” she repeated, scorning the word. “Do you want to know what I did when I had finished reading it?” “Yes.” he answered humbly.

(To Be Continued.)

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—Oh, I’ve loved you faithfully and well, Three years, or a bit less—’ ” a b a BUT Morgan interrupted, giving the last line himself: “‘lt wasn't a success.’ Poor Nan! I read no further than that first verse and the beginning of the next: ‘Thank God, that's done!’ I echoed those words, Nan. with all my heart —‘Thank God. that’s done!’” “You mean—?” Nan quivered. “Oh, John, don’t lie to me now? I can bear the truth, if you love me as well as Iris—” “I’m trying to tell you the truth, Nan,” he interrupted gravely. He held her away from him tor a moment, then stooped and lifted her into his arms, carried her to the one big armchair that the room offered. But one was enough. She lay, child-small, in his lap, her head against his breast, so that she could listen to the beating of his heart as well as to his words. “You must know,” he began haltingly, “how it w r as with me. You saw—us together for three years. Would you have said that I was a—happy man, Nan?” “No,” she whispered. Her fingers took fierce hold on the lapel of his coat. It was still necessary to convince herself every now and then that it wasn't all a dream. “I was a slave in bondage. Nan. Lord! I don’t mean to sound pathetic, but it’s so necessary that I try to make you understand now, so that we can forget the past and be happy. You know, Nan, I used to get a dim sort of feeling that it made you angry to see us together—” “It did!” she agreed, vehemently nodding her shining brown head against his breast. “She didn't love you, and saw you small, made you small when she was with you. I loved you, and saw you big—” “And made me big,” Morgan interrupted, laughing exultantly. “Don’t you think I realize that Nan has ‘made me what I am today’— whether she’s satisfied or not? But —did you really love me then?” “Won’t you leave me a shred of my pride?” Nan protested, blood rushing to her cheeks. “But—oh, what does pride matter now? I loved you from the first day I worked for you. I tried to be decent enough to resign, when I found out what was the matter with me—” “When was that?” he demanded eagerly as a boy with his first sweetheart. “Oh! —when Willis Todd wanted to marry me and was jealous of you, and tried to make me say I loved him and didn't love you,” she answered. “And for three months I’ve been tormented by the suspicion that you loved Willis Todd and married me only because I needed you more than he did,” Morgan confessed. “But—about Iris. It had better be said—ail of it, and then we can talk about us. I did love her. Nan, with the most painful, shameful, degrading, enslaving love that a man ever felt for a woman who could not love him. She didn't try to pretend that she loved me. As I said awhile ago. I don't blame her. But I used to pray to God. in my agony, to wake up the next morning and find myself free of my love. “I knew Iris would be relieved, even if her vanity would have suffered. I must have bored her and annoyed her unbearably with my passion. It made her despise me and hurt me in thousands of little ways. But—l couldn’t cure myself. My malady was so malignant that it required a surgeon’s knife—and Iris elected to be the surgeon.” a a a HE paused and Nan's heart lunged sickeningly. Was he living again the agony worse than death which that major operation had caused him? She held her breath.

His arms tightened about her. One hand cupped her little face with such infinite tenderness that tears sprang into the girl's eyes. “I had a marvelous nurse after the operation,” he pursued the metaphor whimsically. “It was her devoted care which made the operation a success, more than the surgeon’s knife. And as most patients do, I—fell in love with my nurse. . . . And, oh, Nan! The wonder of it—to be free of the malady!” “Are you—sure—you're cured?” Nan whispered. “Sometimes such maladies break out—again—” “You can’t frighten me,” Morgan laughed, bending his head to kiss her again. “Os course, if you want to torture yourself— You see, darling, the whole thing was so purely physical. I never loved Iris’ mind or her soul. ... I don’t even know whether she had either. I loved her beauty. With you, it was so different. No. wait, you little devil!” he commanded sternly as she was about to take him up on that. “I was going to say that I loved your mind and your brave, fine soul long before I loved your body. I loved you in those ways from the very first, but physically I was enslaved to another woman.

To Be Continued.)

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SALESMAN SAM

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Questions and Answers

you can get an answer to any answerable auestion of fact or information bv writing to Frederick M. Kerby. Question Editor The Indianapolis Times' Washington Bureau 1322 New York avenue Washington. D. C.. inclosing 2 cents in stamps for reply. Medical and legal advice can not be given nor can extended research be made. All other cuestior.s will receive a personal reply Unsigned reauests can not be answered A!: letters are confidential. You are cordially invited to make use of this service Who is Cheerio, who broadcasts : over WEAF every morning? He is Charles K. Field, a classmate of President Hoover at Leland Stanford university in 1895, and more recently co-author with Will

Irwin of a biography of the President For years he was editor of Sunset Magazine. Field donates his services for the daily programs and the broadcasting company donates the time on the air. Incidental expenses for clerical work and musical entertainment are met by the American Health Association of which Hoover is president. .. Is the Loyal Orange Institution older than Freemasonry? The Loyal Orange Institution was founded in 1688. There are records

—By Williams

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| of Masonic lodges as far back as i 1617, and probably there were some ! oven before that. Did the Jews and the Romans at the time of Christ wear sandals? They were in common use at that ; time. When was President McKinley assassinated? September, 1901. What is a Chinese sturgeon line? A set line, consisting of about 1,300 needle point, unbaited hooks. How many times has John Barrymore been married? Three times. His first wife was

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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Kathenne Harris: his second was Blanche Thomas, whose pen name is Michael Strange, and on Nov. 24, 1928 he married Dolores Costello. What does “Je vous aime” m^an? It is French and means “I love you.” Does an American bom woman lose her citizenship when she marries an alien? No. What is the value of a United States trade dollar dated 1878? 80 cents. What is meant by prison pallor? Owing to confinement and lack of

J.O.

—By Martin

sunshine, those who are incarcerated for some time in prison, get a pallid complexion, that is spoken of as prison pallor. Which are the leading lumber producing states in the United States? Washington and Oregon. Is the word science found in the King James vefsion of the Bible? There are two references; Daniel 1:4 and 1 Timothy 6:30. What is the average weight of a buffalo? The average weight of the male, is 1,800 pounds and of the female 1,200 pounds.

By A-hern

By Biusser

By Craua

By Small

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