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Newspaper Page Text
CONFESSIONS OF A WIFE
MARY SAYS SHE WONT MARRY AGAIN
Mary came this morning looking
so pale and thin.
As she was dressing for luncheon
she showed me the-cruel scar on her
"That is all I have left of my dream,
Margie, and the awful part of it is
it won't let me forget " she said with
a little tremble in her voice.
"Do you want to forget, Mary?"
"Why of course I want to forget.
I would like to remember some of the
beautiful things, for you know this
idea of sorrow's crown of sorrows be
ing the remembrance of happier
things is all nonsense.
"But when I think, as sometimes I
must, although I try to forget oh,
how I try to forget of my nights of
agony and tears and of my days of
suspense and doubt; when I ques
tioned myself if I dH right could I
have made things any better for
either of us. I pray for forgetfulness
as a thirsting m"an would pray for a
drink of cold water."
"Time will bring forgetfulness,
dear Mary," I said fatuously.
"Time will never obliterate that,
Margie," said Mary, pointing to the
scar. "And there is a deeper scar on
my heart, a scar that hurts and burns
yet But let's don't talk about it,
dear. I want to tell you what I think
of doing I am very much interested
in books, as you know, and I have
been quite successful with them. You
need not look so supercilious, my
dear. I know even better than you
that Max Pendleton made it possible
for me to be successful, but while he
perhaps bought any kind of books be
cause of me, yet I only sold him fine
books because I wanted him to have
"Of course he helped me, Margie.
He would have bought the whole
book shop had I permitted it As it
was he has added a wonderful col
lection to his library and many of 1
them will always bring back my
name to him. Margie, I don't believe
any man ever did anything great un
less some woman influenced him, and
I do not believe that a woman can
do great things alone, as I shall be
in the future.
"Then you are going to let him go
out of your life, Mary?"
"I don't know. Sometimes I think
I ought and then again it seems rath
er ungrateful to tell him to go if he
wishes to stay. He only made my
life bearable all that long, unhappy
time after Jack's father died and I
had charge of the bookshop. If he
still wants to be with me I don't
want to hurt him by sending him
away and yet, Margie, I am seven
years older than Max.
"If I was not able to keep the love
of Jack, and I was younger than he,
would I be able to interest Max Pen
dleton ten years hence? .
"Margie, I have almost come to the
conclusion that I have had enough
of marriage and I have almost come
to the belief of which Goethe was the
devotee, you remember it, don't you?
'The greatest cure for love is mar
riage.' I think now that I shall travel
a few years and then come back with
the book treasures that I shall pick
up and settle down into a book brok
erand live happy ever after."
I looked at her curiously. Mary,
for all her lack of flesh and color, had
"I want to do what is best for ,
but if I marry him will that be best?"
"Well, my dear, if you ask me I
will answer very differently than I
would before I was married. Then
I would have thought it terrible to
have married a man younger than
myself, but now I have come to the
conclusion that it is not age that tires
a man, but the invisible barrier that
he builds between himself and his
wife. He can go through the little
door to the human side of things, but