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Newspaper Page Text
A DUAL ROLE
By Elmer Cobb.
Ten yeaxs before John Hayward
had been a poor lad-in. Staples. Now
he was returning, comparatively rich,
to settle down in the village of his
birth. And when a man does this, if
he be a bachelor, it is safe to assume
that the thought of some old boyhood
sweetheart has crossed his brain.
There were two of them sisters.
June and Lucille Purvis were twins,
The Writing Broke Off Abruptly.
and John had been madly in love with
each alternately. Like most men, he
had two natures. One was the nature
of the average man. He liked jollity,
frivolity and a "good time." With
pretty, flaxen-haired Lucille, he had
enjoyed himself to his heart's con
tent. But for a strain of caution in his
blood, inherited from a maternal
grandfather, who was a Scatchman
he would have proposed to her at anj
of innumerable odd moments.
But John had another side, thougn.
he hid it successfully from the world.
This was a dreamy, sentimental side,
such as the stately June alone could
satisfy. And perhaps this was his sin
cerest and truest side. But June was
And so, with lingering thoughts of
June, he proposed to ask Lucille to be
his wife. Lucille was as jolly as ever,
unattached, and apparently as young
as ten years earlier. Perhaps she was
twentyf-nine. John was thirty-four.
And, with increasing years, the June
side had developed at the expense of
"Pshaw!" he muttered. "A man is
a sentimental fool when he passes
thirty, anyway. Lucille would make
me the jolliest wife imaginable." .
And Lucille had all but told him she
And when he got back home, after
that visit during which he had fully
decided to put the question next time
then John took out bf a secret
drawer a certain little diary which he
had carried with him for ten years.
June had put that into his hands, that
day he went away tall, statuesque
June, whom he had always thought
so cold. And in it were certain poig
nant passages which he re-read this
night, to test himself, before asking
that momentous question of Lucille.
John turned the pages.
"He is going away tomorrow," he
read. "And I love him. And I don't
know what to do. I must tell him.
He thinks me utterly different from
what I am. I wonder what he would
thing if he knew how many tears I
have shed "
The writing broke off abruptly, and
that was the last paragraph in the
book. John turned back.
"I don't know what to do. I don"t
know why a woman is forbidden to
reveal her heart when all her happi
ness depends upon his knowing. I
'ove John Hayward. There! I shall
scratch out the name-some day, and
then nobody will know who he is. I
am playing a part here. I play it