Search America's historic newspaper pages from 1836-1922 or use the U.S. Newspaper Directory to find information about American newspapers published between 1690-present. Chronicling America is sponsored jointly by the
National Endowment for the Humanities and the Library of Congress. external link Learn more
Image provided by: University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL
Newspaper Page Text
--'-" -.-" t- -- - - -.-jiijjii -" -ia""-
In the dance his enigma seemed to
resolve itself. He knew that he had
outgrown the old life. It had become
impossible. He had won a high post,
but he had given hostages to fortune
in the shape of his little, neglected
wife. The dance with Lydia, Em
mons seemed to cap his decision. He
drew her outside.
"I've been thinking things over,
Liddy," he began.
"So have I, Morty," answered
Lydia Emmons, looking curiously
into his "flushed face.
"This can't go on. I want you to
come to Europe with me and let us
start in new. With my knowledge of
the manufacture of thermolite I can
command any price. The Reich com
pany, who are the agents for the
German government, would pay me
a million dollars for the process.
They have been trying to work me
for a long time. And it isn't a gov
ernment secret altogether, remem
ber. It is the factory's property, and
I improved it Why should we slave
here when we can have a palace
"Morty, you've been drinking," an
swered Lydia lightly, trying not to
let him see how his words agitated
"I love you, Lydia. Why don't you
"Because you haven't proved it"
"How can I prove it?-"
"Give me the formula."
In her apartment in the town
Lydia was enjoying her afternoon
cigarette the next day when the maid
showed Mrs. Strange in. Lydia, who
of course could not refuse to see her,
prepared uncomfortably for the in
terview. While she was dressing she
pictured in her mind some awkward
country woman, some "gawk" of a
creature, as she phrased it to herself.
She was surprised at the refined, del
icate little woman who stood before
She bowed. "Mrs. Strange?" she
Doris stood looking at her stead
ily, her hands clasped'in front of her;
"Do you love my husband?" she
asked. " '
Lydia Emmons, entirely at a loss
how to answer, remained silent
"I have not come to you to make
trouble," Doris went on. "But, you
see, I love Mortimer, and we have no
children. So that will make hVeasier-
"Easier for what?"
"To let him divorce me."
"I will answer you truthfully,"
said Lydia. "I do not love your hus
band at alL"
"Then why is your name coupled
with his constantly? Why does he
spend all his time with you? Oh;
won't you either take him if you
want each other or give him back
to me?" wept Doris.
Lydia looked at her and an intense
curiosity stirred in her. She put her
hands upon the other woman's
"Why does he mean so much to
you?" she asked. "He is not worthy
( "He is! He is!" cried Doris indig
nantly. "It is I who am not worthy
of him. I have not been able to live
as he wished me to live. He is my
husband, and it is my duty to make
him happy. I want a chance to try."
Lydia Emmons was still more
astounded. "But but I don't -want
to rob you of him," she stammered.
"Tell me, Mrs. Strange, -what sort of
woman do people say I am?"
"Bad!" sobbed Doris, like a resent
"Very bad? Thoroughly vicious
"I don't pay heed to gossip unless
I have to. But people in our circles
are talking. That was why I came
What would she think if she knew
what Mortimer had asked her?
Lydia was suddenly appalled.
"Mrs. Strange," she said quietly,
"I am not what the world would call
a good woman, I' suppose. Maybe I
am naturally bad, or maybe I never
yJiXi1 H ' H&2&&&S