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The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, February 22, 1913, Image 18

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1913-02-22/ed-1/seq-18/

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By George Munson.
(Copyright by W. G. Chapman.)
Lawrence Harned had put the
finishing touches to his picture,
and yet he was not satisfied. For
four months he had painted it, re
touching here and there until at
last all was complete except the
woman who stood with out-
Suddenly His Heart Beat Wildly.
stretched arms among the drift
ing snowflakes. Her face, a type
of Southern beauty. Spanish or
Italian, had never symbolized the
thought of the designer: now,
staring unhappily at it, he felt
that he could never attain to what
he sought.
Harned occupied an attic in
Washington square, a huge room
which served at once for studio
and bedroom. Adjoining this was
a smaller furnished room, but he
never occupied this. He slept
among his paintings, and often in
the middle of the night he would
spring from his bed to portray the
idea which had come to him in
the stretches of sleeplessness.
Now he looked out at the falling
snow, whitening the roofs around
him. With a suddet impulse he
put on his hat and overcoat and
strode down the stairs and into
the darkness without.
Then suddenly his heart beat
wildly. For there, approaching
slowly and uncertainly through"
the night, was the woman of his
dream. She was a girl of per
haps seventeen, slight, wonderful
in figure and poise, an Italian, he
thought, to judge from her dark
eyes and wealth of glossy hair
that coiled around her head and
over her temples. She drew near
and looked at him imploringly;
then of a sudden she collapsed in
the snow and would have fallen
had he not held her.
"What is the matter?" he ask
ed her. "Are you lost? Are you
ill?" But she only shook her
head and the tears streamed
down her face. He tried her in
French, in his unskilled Italian,
but in vain. And when she open
ed her mouth he could not catch
the meaning of a single one of
the mellifluent syllables that flow
ed from her lips.
Harned stared at her in dis
may. Then it occurred to him
that his duty was to offer her
warmth and perhaps food, and, in
doing so, be would paint her. This

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