Indianapolis Times, Volume 42, Number 290, Indianapolis, Marion County, 15 April 1931 — Page 8

PAGE 8

HAD MARRIAGE-11 I b< / LAURA LOUBROOKMAN Author ofHEARTIiUNOPY'etC.

Chapter Thirty-five "It isn't insurance I want to talk •bout, 1 ' Marcia said. “It’s something else." She stirred against her cushions and raised on tiny slippered toe and inspected it critically. "Maybe you'll hate me for asking you to come here this way, but I couldn't help it, Jim. i had to see you!" But, I've already told you I'm glad to come.” "It isn’t about business or insurance,” the girl went on. "It's about me!” Jim Wallace looked slightly uncomfortable, but he did not speak "No matter what you think of me for it.” Marcia went on. “I’ve got to tell you this. It's—it's a confession.” She waited, then continued slowly. “I didn't love Brock Phillips. I found that out, Jim, the first ■week we w'ere married. Oh, you’ve no idea how miserable I’ve been! I'm miserable now when every one thinks I’m heartbroken over Brock and I'm not. ‘ Os course I was fond of him—in b way. It was a terrible accident and I cried when I knew he was dead. Only you see I can’t mourn him like a wife. “A thousand times I've upbraided myself for the way I treated you, Jim, but I’ve been punished for it. Oh—l’ve been punished.” She covered her eyes with a handkerchief. There was a moment of silence. Then Jim said, “Why are you telling me all this?” “Because I —l want you to know that I’m sorry. Oh, Jtm, it was all such a terrible mistake!” He could scarcely hear her voice for the sobs. “Please Marcia—!” Jim said soothingly, “you’re only going to make yourself feel worse. You mustn’t go on this way. Try to brace up now and stop crying!” There was no answer. He could not see the girl's face, so he moved to the davenport and sat down beside her. He put a hand on Marcia’s arm. “Don’t let yourself be so miserable! Don’t Marcia!” She still held the handkerchief to her eyes with one hand, the other dropped, found Jim’s and clung to it. Presently the word came faintly, “Do you—hate me, Jim?” “Os course I don’t. I could never do that. You know I think a lot of you.” “Oh—you can say that after all I’ve done!” “It isn't going to do any good to think about the past now,” Jim said steadily. “You mustn’t do it, Marcia. That’s all over. Forgotten. You ought to be thinking about the future.” tt tt tt TiyfARCIA touched the handkerlVjLchief daintily to each eye. She looked infinitely pathetic. There were no swollen rim about the bluegray eyes such as weeping usually brings. ./‘For me,” Marcia said softly, “for me there’ll never be anything but the past.” Suddenly she took Jim's hand in both of hers, pressed it tightly. “I suppose I ought to go away,” she began. “Never see you again. That’s what I should do. “You’re happy here, aren’t you, Jim? Married—with a lovely wife. Oh, of course, she's lovely. I’ve seen her. I ought to go away so that you can forget all about me ’’ “Don't!” Wallace spoke sharply. ‘‘Don’t talk that way. You know I never could forget you!” “Oh, but you must. You’ll have to. I'm the one to do the suffering, because I’m the one who sent you a-way. “Oh. Jim. darling, when I think of the happiness we might have had —when I think of all I threw away, I—l just can’t stand It!” Marcia buried her face against the young man’s shoulder. She clung to him helplessly. The perfume of her hair, so silken, so golden, was a subtle sweetness. Jim’s arm went around her. For a long moment he held her; then Marcia drew away. “I didn't mean to do that,” she said. “I only asked you to come here because I thought it would be easier if there was one person who understood. “You were the only person I could talk to. I don’t mean to interfere with your life, Jim. Not for the world! "She waited and the eyes behind the curling lashes lifted to his shrewdly. Scarcely above a murmur she

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| asked. “Do you love her very ! much?” His expression did not change. “Gypsy and I have been happy,” he said. “She’s a fine girl.” “I’m so glad for your sake. She wouldin’t mind your coming here today, would she?” “Oh, no. Gypsy wouldn't mind. Only I’ve been thinking that If you’d | rather turn things over to another lawyer—” “Why .should I do that? Just seeing you once in a while makes me so much happier, Jim. Surely we can be friends! Is that too I much to ask when you have every- ; thing and I have so little?” Jim Wallace frowned. “Look here, Marcia,” he said, “we’ve got to face this thing. Circumstances have—- ; well, changed. There’s nothing we can do about that now'. “You know I’m fopd of you. I always will be. But there are other things—responsibilities to think of. Os course you're unhappy now, but you’ll get over it. There must be fine things ahead for a girl like you. “You have beauty, charm, money —there’s nothing in the world you can’t have!” “Please, Jim—” “No, you must listen. I don’t want to think of you staying in the house here, miserable all day long. “You ought to be getting out, getting interested in what’s going on. That’s what you should do. Get out and see people, try to forget what’s past!” “Is that what you want me to do, Jim?” The girl’s voice was humble. “Yes.” “Then I’ll—try. I promise you I will.” “Good! Now I think I’d better be going. It’s getting late.” “But it’s only five,” Marcia objected. “And I’m a dreadful hostess! Please w r ait and let me get you a cool drink—” She was on her feet before he could stop her and out of the room. Jim w r alked to a window. He stood there, hands in his pockets, staring out until a few minutes later Marcia returned. u tt o SHE was carrying a large oldfashioned tray. There-was a pitcher on it and two glasses, already filled, containing ice and topped W’ith mint sprigs. Marcia set the tray on a low table and offered Jim a glass. She took one herself. “Here’s to your happiness,” she said, raising the glass to her lips. “And here’s to youi'S ” It was nearly 6 when at last he rose to leave. Marcia followed him to the door, offered her hand. He pressed it tightly. “Thank you for coming,” she said softly. “You’ve done a lot to help me.” “Then I’m very glad. Let me know when you hear from that insurance office. Good night.” “Good night, Jim.” The door closed. From the hall window Marcia watched him go down the walk and turn to the right. She waited until the broad shoulders were out of sight. An old-fashioned mirror with a frame of carved maple hung against the wall. Marcia faced her reflection in the mirror. For an instant she studied herself critically, touched her hair here and there, gently replacing a curling wisp. Then she raised her head. Marcia was smiling and there was triumph, complete confidence in that smile. tt tt a FOR nearly a week Gypsy could not make up her mind what was wrong.’ There was nothing in what Jim said to betray restlessness. He was as considerate as ever. She saw him at the breakfast table, at dinner, frequently during the evening. In spite of outward calm Gypsy knew that something had happened. Jim seemed different. He would look up in the middle of something she had been telling him, his face saying as plain as words that he had heard not a single sentence. At other times he would set preoccupied so that Gypsy herself would become embarrassed at the stillness. It was on a Wednesday that she learned the truth. Gypsy had been busy in the garden all afternoon. Sam was spraying the rose bushes and the girl had been punching about with a trowel, pulling a weed when she found one, patting the soil about roots where rainfall had washed it away, and enjoying herself heartily. She came into the house late to

dress. On the desk In her bedroom lay a stamped envelope. Gypsy moaned. It was the letter she had wanted to get off to Anne Trowbridge for a week. The postman had made his collection. It was too late to get the letter into the day's mail. According to the clock on the bedside table it was 20 minutes after 4. Gypsy, suddenly making up her mind, dressed hurriedly. “I’m going to the postoffice,” she called to Matilda In the kitchen. “If any one calls, say I’ll be right back.” It was twenty minutes’ walk to the postoffice. Gypsy hurried along with brisk steps. She mailed the letter with the pleasant consciousness of a long-delayed task completed. Then she turned homeward. To reach the Wallace home, it was not necessary to pass Aunt Ellen’s cottage. Some perverse imp of fortune must have made Gypsy take the long way around the block instead of the short. As she turned the corner, she saw a man going up the walk toward the cottage. Gypsy watched with mild curiosity and suddenly recognized him. It was Jim! The door of the house opened to reveal a blond girl smiling. Jim went inside. It had been the tiniest flash of human drama. Barely an incident. There had been no time for Gypsy to study the expression of Jim’s face or the girl's. Nothing had happened. Nothing really. And yet Gypsy, with unwavering instinct, knew the truth. How blind she had been! How hopelessly, stupidly blind! The girl could feel her cheeks flaming. Eyes straight ahead, walking rapidly, she hurried past the cottage, overwhelmed with a horror that Jim should look out the window and see her. She reached the house and went directly to her room. Alone there she sank to the nearest chair. It was all so clear now. So simple. Marcia, who had broken Jim’s heart once, had picked up the pieces and was toying with them. Beautiful Marcia! What did she want tvith Jim? Was it only to hurt him again that she had come back? What did Marcia Phillips expect to gain? She did not give way to tears. She never had been mere calm. Only the tightness of her lips, an unusual pallor betrayed her emotion. She arose presently and went down stairs. When Jim entered the house she was waiting for him. “It’s been a hot day,” he said. “Scorcher!” “It’s been cool enough here,” Gypsy told him. “I was in the garden almost all day. Did you work late?” Jim was not looking at her. “Yes," he said, “tied up with Mills on that Ainsworth will case. I may have to go down to the office again this evening if he telephones.” (To Be Continued) Banks Win $47,000 Case By Times Special PERU, Ind., April 15.—The First National bank of Peru and the Peru Trust Company have been given judgments for a total of $47,788.39, against George E. Meek of Kokomo. The banks sued on notes given by Meek in financing the Weigel Machine and Tool Company which failed here ten years ago. The suits were tried before Judge O. D. Clawson in Grant circuit court at Marion on a change pf venue from Miami county.

STICKER?

Can you divide this shape info eight pieces, each of the same shape and size?

Answer for Yesterday

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RZAN AND THE GOLDEN LION

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An hour passed with no word from the Bolgani and no resumption of hostilities. Then came to the main entrance of the throne room that gorilla-like man whom Tarzan had dispatched with his demand for the Bolgani surrender. “We will never surrender,” was the answer. As the ape-man, half-reclining upon the dais, flung one arm about Jad-bal-ja he could hear outside movements among the Bolgani. What were they up to? The ape-man and LA watched impatiently for th* black reinforcements. Would they never come? f‘.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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’’They are hatching some evil plan,” excitedly exclaimed the old man. “Watch out for a surprise soon." “Calm yourself,” replied Tarzan easily, “remember, they are not supermen—only beasts." “Beasts they may be," the old man answered, “but they are beasts with the brains of men. Long have I lived among them; their cunning and cruelty are diabolical.” A long silence ensued, which began to unnerve the Gomangani. To the failure of their fellows to come to their aid was added fear of what the Bolgani were plan ping.

—By Ahern

VAWEto PLANE H\TS Th' WAVES? ,"1 t-YLv!'* HftVSE VfcO ' at . |

The silence was more terrifying than an actual assault. •It became too much for LA. Restlessly she went, disdaining caution, to a part of the room where he could see the terrace and gardens. She beheld, massed outside, scores of gorilla-men. Going quickly to the opposite side of the throne room, she drew the hangings before one of the entrances. That, too, had its guard of Bolgani. They stood there motionless, making no effort to seize or harm her. Plainly Tarzan was completely hedged in by enemies.

OUT OUR WAY

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—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Tarzan, himself, had also noted how the Bolgani had blocked every avenue of escape. “Soon they will strike,” remarked the old man, “our doom is near. ‘ Perhaps you are right,” replied Tarzan, “but at least we shall give them a good fight.” “What is that?" exclaimed LA. At a sudden noise they gazed at the ceiling. There, f.aps were being lifted from a dozen openings revealing the scowling faces of several score gorillamen. And as if in answer to La’s question the .Bolgani began hurling burning bundles of ra*s into tha thrnru? 4

.APRIL IS, 1981

—By Williams

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martirt