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The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, October 22, 1912, Image 19

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1912-10-22/ed-1/seq-19/

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had their quarrel. But both were
proud and both were young; and
so the little quarrel had become a
big One, and finally he had left her
in anger, to find when he was
readyto ask forgiveness that she
had gone away. He had found no
trace of her since that day,
though he had sought "far and
wide. Once she had had liter? ry
aspirations, too; he had hoped to
hear of her in some of the maga
zine offices, but she had disap
peared completely from the
knowledge of all who had known
her.
He watched the development of
the drama, the tragedy that set
forth, word by word, line by line,
an indelible picture that revived
each single memory and seared
him to the heart. It was his ! It
was he who had written this and
offered it to a manager the year
before, hoping that in the final
stage reconciliation Lillian would
read his own hopes and dreams;
that she would see it and remem.
ber their love and come back to
him. And the play, rejected
everywhere, had yet been held
-long enough to enable some' man
ager Co make a copy of it and
steal it and have it produced.
"There was no mistaking that.
Skillfully as it had been changed
and rewritten, though every word
had been put through the crucible
of the manager's mind, yet the
play had emerged the same, il
was his play I It was his play!
uia ne wouiu nave justice.
' Suddenly, at the height of the
second act. when the most tense
stillness brooded over the dark-
ened theater, Langdori was im
pelled to glance across the aisle.
A woman sat there watching him,
upon her mouth the faintest ves
tige of a smile. But there might
have been tears in her eyes h
Lillian's eyes. '
It was. Lillian. He knew hefc
immediately. She- had changed
but little, though lines of suffer
ing had come about her mouth,
and her face was more earnest,
more mature, but not less beauti
ful. Langdon rose in hisAseat.
"Sit down! "Silence !" called
some one angrily behind him, and
he sat down.
Jle would go "to her after the
act was over. He wanted hfcr as
he had never wanted her before.
For her sake he wouldvlay aside
the last vestige of his pride, for
her sake he would confess' his fol
ly ; and for his own sake he "would
beg for the glory of her love.
He could not see her face
through the misty curtain that
floated before his-own. He'put his
hand to his eyesand" was sur
prised to fmd it wet. He looked
again. He could not see her now.
The curtain fell; the lights went
up. But Lillian was not there.
Was she a dream only, born of
his imagination and his desires?
No, there was the empty seat, and
there, even was a little glove,
dropped from her lap. He'could
not but know Lillian's glove. He
picked it up and pressed it to his
lips reverently; then suddenly he
found that people were staring at
him. He glanced round him wild
ly and all at 6nce became aware
that all eyes were turned upon the
fefcte
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