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The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, February 13, 1914, NOON EDITION, Image 15

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Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1914-02-13/ed-1/seq-15/

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THE CONFESSIONS OF A WIFE
THE MORNING AFTER
; Chapter LXXVII
I did not sleep at all after Dick got
in and as the daylight came stream
ing through the window I got up and
after taking my bath and dressing I
went down to breakfast leaving him
in a sodden, crumpled mass where he
had fallen on the sofa.
I did not try to keep quiet, but
opened the windows with a bang aa
the room was full of the smell of ?.
liquor-laden breath and the stench of
"dead" tobacco. Dick stirred uneas
ily and turned himself into a most
impossible sprawling position. I was
sure that he would fall off the sofa
and I really hoped he would. I was
so. disgusted with him that I felt I
could never care for him again. The
mere thought of that man, who seem
ed a total-stranger, caressing me,
nauseated me.
Some way getting drunk seems
such a senseless operation. -1 think I
can see where the stimulation of a
glass of wine might give the world
a more roseate hue, but drinking un
til one loses one's memory, one's self
respect, one's identity, is something
I cannot understand.
Perhaps this is one of the follies
which Dick told me about when we
were first married one of those fool
ish relaxations which men seem to
think they deserve to make up for the
hard grind of business.
My head was aching when I went
down to breakfast, and it was not
with any degree of assurance that I
lied to Mrs. Brown, who came over
to my table and remarked. "Has
your husband gone away again? I
saw you were to dinner alone last
night."
"Mr. Waverly was called suddenly
out of town, but I think he will be
home at dinner."
"Goodness," I said to myself, "I
hope she won't come up to my rooms
or run across Dick in the halls."
And then a smile came to my lips as
I remembered what Annie, my wash
erwoman, had said to me just a few
days before about her husband:
"Shure, Miss Margaret, I couldn't
be shaming him before his frinds."
Here was I doing the same thing
for Dick.
We women all are alike rich and
poor those who call themselves edu
cated and those who make no pre
tense of culture.
We will not "Shame" "our men"
even if we must lie for them with a
smile on our lips when our hearts
hurt and our good sense rebels..
I wonder what would be the out
come if every one dealt with every
one else in uncompromising truth; if
society were built on such a basis
that instead of a woman always pro
tecting the man and excusing his
picadillos she simply told the truth
and made him stand for his own sins
and mistakes.
If I could have said to Mrs. Brown
this morning: "No, Mr. Waverly is
not out of town, he drank too much
last night and is now sleeping it off."
What would be the outcome of a pro
cedure like that?
I would almost like to try it. And
I think I would begin right now to
do it if I had only myself to think
about but there's Dick mother who
would be heart-broken and whose
pride in her son would be killed if she
knew that he had done this awful
thing or at least, if she thought any
one outside of his immediate family
knew he had done this awful thing.
I guess it is a good thing that the
maternal or protecting instinct is the
strongest of any with women.
I want to be indignant with Dick.
I am disgusted with him but here
I am feeling rather sorry for him for
making such an ass of himself and
evidently not getting much fun out
of it after all.
(To Be Continued Tomorrow.) '

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