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title: 'The Day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, October 26, 1914, LAST EDITION, Image 18',
meta: 'News about Chronicling America - RSS Feed',
Image provided by: University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL
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By Margaret Middleton.
"I wouldn't dream of accepting
your half-price offer," said Mrs. Mar
vin, with all the liberal-ingenuousness
of a new and happy bride. .
"I need work so sorely," explained
Roslyn Boyd, "that I am willing to
take anything I can get."
He was a gentleman, she saw that.
"I Suppose That You Wish to Sell Me
His face showed cultured intelli
gence. "You seem to be very anxious," she
suggested, in a sympathetic, wo
manly way, and more than anxious
was the reply.
"We are hard pressed, my sick
wife and two little children. About
all I know is photography. Until re-
"ly I had quite a lucrative posi--hotographing
scenery for a
i ompany. My work for them.
was completed some time ago and I1
have had to pick up what business I
can in this way."
"Very well, you can take a photo
graph of the house yes, and another
of the garden and print up half a
dozen of each."
Two days later, when Boyd deliv
ered his order, he departed from his
generous almoner well paid and with
the promise of more work. Within
the week Mrs. Marvin sent him to
half a dozen wealthy friends. Then
she called at the humble home of the
photographer in her limousine,
hrought dainties for his invalid wife,
provided for the children and scat
tered sunshine generally in the Boyd
Of course, Boyd was deeply grate
ful. Whenever he met Mrs. Marvin
she had a pleasant, encouraging
word for him. Her friends helped
her to send work to Boyd. He
found himself hopeful, prosperous,
One morning as he chanced to pass
the elegant home of the Marvins, he
viewed a scene that at once troubled
him. Mr. Marvin was just leaving the
house. He came down the steps with
an angry face, evidently greatly dis
turbed. He was a handsome man,
but his features seemed to show
traces of dissipation. Pretty Mrs.
Marvin stood within the vestibule,
one hand extended as if appealing to
him to return. Then as her husband
swung away she crouched back, cov
ering her face with her hands as if in
"Trouble! Oh, I hope not, though
it seems so," reflected Boyd, sorely
disturbed on account of his good,
kind friend. Then his thoughts were
abruptly disturbed as a friendly hand
tbuched his shoulder.
"Hello, Boyd, what -are you doing
in this aristocratic quarter?" hailed
his challenger, whom he recognized
as an old-time friend.
"I am having a good deal of work
in the neighborhood," explained