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Newspaper Page Text
CONFESSIONS OF A WIFE
MARY TELLS ME SHE IS MARRIED
Little book, do you think I will
ever get where I can control my feel
ings? I have been so sorry since I
went to pieces before Donna. It is
not brave, to say the least
Every one must have some place
to go where they can give vent to
their feelings at time. I have some
times thought a great many women
made their God the recipient of their
sorrows. I have often heard prayers
in public places that made me think
that prayer meant to the person
praying only a-vent for surcharged
feelings and emotion. Other women
are naggers just because the trou
bles they try to keep all to them
selves leak out in driblets.
I don't like those wonderfully se
cretive women, little book. It has al
ways seemed to me they were rather
cold, calculating and suspicious.
I am sure if I did not have you I'd
have to tell some one about the most
interesting man, and while there is
absolutely nothing wrong or any
thing that is not perfectly platonic in
my regard for him, he has Certainly
succeeded in holding an interest for
me. I don't imagine I would care to
see him often. His moods are so
many it tires me to follow them, and
I often resent his assumption of su
periority to all women.
His name and personality pops in
here' just now, for after Donna went
away I had time to open Mary's let
ter and my foreign-looking letter.
First, Mary told me the great news.
"I have done the deed," she said.
"Max and I were married at the
American legation yesterday. He
overcame all my objections on the
subject of age and was so insistent
I decided to marry over here and take
a leisurely honeymoon before we re
turn to America.
" 'Do you love him, Mary?' I hear
you ask, and I have to answer 'No'
and 'Yes.' 'No,' if it means the old
wild passion which would have made
me walk with a smile over burning
plowshares to Jack. 'Yes,' if it means
that I love to be with him, that I am
more than interested in his thoughts,
expressed in the pure diction and ex
quisite taste that delights me.
"You see, Margie, the wild and
restless passion did not pan out. It
passed passed utterly with Jack
after the first few months; with me
it died harder, but it did die, and then
separation was a nightmare from
which I always awoke in hell.
"I have absolutely demonstrated
that you must have much more than
passionate love upon which to build
a successful marriage. So I am try
ing something else. Will it work? I
don't know. Only time will telL
"Have just heard of your terrible
trouble. I can't imagine you, dear,
with your enthusiasm and nervous
strength, stretched out for months
on a bed.
"Have you any idea what was the
-cause? Did you hurt your back
when you fell? Of course, the doc--tors
will pull you out sooner than
they expect; they always do.
"In the meantime, dear girl, I am
sending you a little 'wedding pres
ent' We will turn the tables this
time and I'll send you a little token
of my love for you.
"I hope you will enjoy it as much
as I do mine. I read it every day,
find while some people will tell you it
is the religion of a pagan, and will
see no good in it, to me Marcus Au
relius is one of the greatest teachers
of the world."
Just as I read this, little book,
Alice, my nurse, brought me my
copy of the great pagan philosopher,
bound in exquisite inlaid and tooled
leather. The book was as much of
a treasure as a perfect diamond. I
held it in my hands for a while. It
comforted me just to hold it, even
without reading it.