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The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, February 28, 1917, LAST EDITION, Image 18

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

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1917-02-28/ed-1/seq-18/

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Sy Alvah Jordan Garth
"You are going away?"
"I must." "
The question was an appeal, soft,
tender, fluttering. The reply was de
cisive, almost stern.
She was in the full glory of early
womanhood, scarcely 25, tall and
graceful, with a face full of expres
sion and eyes that showed rare depth
of soulfulness. He was five years her
senior, a serious man, but a hand
some one. Thus, Harold Worden and
Ina Restcll. their hands clasped, Jiis
eyes fixed intently, indeed quite chal
lenging, upon her face; she, shrink
ing slightly, as though she had re
ceived a blow. He noted that her
bosom fluttered, that her breath
came quick, that her hand pressure
was spasmodic, but clinging. Then
a fact drifted across his mind and
he turned and left her.
"If she had only been true!" he
muttered bitterly, as he left the room
and the house.
"If he had only spoken one word
of hope!" breathed Ina, a stifled sob
in her throat.
They were well matched, these
two. and Clayton society had af
firmed it. There had been a year of
delight for Ina and one of keen sat
isfaction for Harold Worden. They
nad met and drifted naturally into
agreeable companionship, for their
tastes were mututal art, music, ra
tional pleasure. Very near had Wor
den come to a declaration of love.
A chilling blight had come, suddenly
and unexpectedly. The whole fabric
of his fond dreams had gone down
in utter ruin with a single palpitating
One week previous to the present
formal parting he was approaching
the Restell home when a young man
"ran down the steps briskly and
stepped into an automobile at the
curb. Just as he reached it some
thing fell from his pocket Worden
called to him to apprise him of his
loss, but the warning was unheard.
By the time Worden had picked' up
the package the machine had turned
the corner. The young man was a
stranger to Worden, who opened the
package to find 'that it contained a
half-dozen letters. They were in the
handwriting of Ina, he recognized
that at once. A quick, jealous dread
In a Fever of Humiliation and Anger.
entered his mind, then a species of
anger. He debated with himself for
a moment, then with anxious, lower
ing brow he changed his mind about
entering the house, as he had intend
ed. Once in his own room Harold
Worden again examined the package.
The letters appeared to the aroused
mind of Worden to be cherished mis
sives from a sweetheart. All six were

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