The Dallas post. (Dallas, Pa.) 19??-200?, August 31, 1929, Image 5

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DALLAS POST, DALLAS,
PA. AUGUST 24, 1929.
9 0 0 9 ROR) 9 ®,
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; Sh SYNOPSIS : and toilet articles into a small] | i?
iy SYNOPSIS .., Tm ue elevator May rushed | yD di HL oy Re ol et ts he elevate). SYNOPSIS terrupted his soliloquy. He turd
have JH itll ey a hr Deside Beranger, pho es. ) jealous of Beranger-de Brie, a per-| Tang, and waited impatiently tor Dr. Davis and his wife, May, |ed eager eyes towards the door
e been quar g. vig ds | her tr ! fume manufacturer, and May is |the lift to ascend. i have been quarreling. Davis is |The bellhop entered with the sod:
jealous of Beranger-de Brie, a péer-
fume manufacturer,
jealons of Mura Pfeffer, an artist.
They have just made up when
Davis’ receives a supposedly profeés-
‘gional coll and finds himself dele
guicd to take Myra home from: a
“poerty because she pretends illness.
On opening her apartment door he.
thouchtlessly pockets the key. May,
becoming suspicious,” follows him.
Angry, she gets Beranger and they.
go to a cabaret.
cates May and once more they are
reconciled.
only to find Myra in the doctor's
car,’
threatens divorce.
just one
her
mornin. |
ler .. save for an occasional truck
rumbling
The
There were no traffic lights to hin-
de: her.
and on towards home.
Ed Davig that he couldn’t make a
fool of her.
and May is
Davis finally lo-
They start for home
May
demanding her key.
CHAPTER XIlI—Continued
Tho streets were dark and si-
its way downtown.
road was clear before her.
She raced past The Ritze |
She’d show
Having that woman |
waiting there in the car was going
|
step too far. She'd s-o!
lawver the first thing in the
She draw vo at last in front of
‘the apartment house where she and
Hl atross
She held the picture.
Ed had established their home. It
was a little depressing to think
that this would be the last time
she would ever stop in front of it.
And their married life had been so
short. But she wouldn't stand for
!any such treatment’ from any man,
tout of the car.
‘Informed
ghe told herself firmly. She jumped
The sound of a
voice caught her ear. She turned
to face Eeranger.
“Why, Mr. de Brie!” he exclaim-
ed. “How on earth did you ever
get there?”
“Il was hiding from the doctor,”
Beranger explained. “I must have
gone to sleep, because the first
thing I knew you’ were in the car
and I couldn’t get out again.’
“I'm leaving my husband,” May
her admirer quickly.
*I'm getting my things now.”
“Ch, my dear!” Beranger ex-
claimed. “I'm so happy. You nev-
er did belong to such an uncouth
creature—you, so lovely—so charm-
ing—so—so—understanding—"’
May smiled. “Well, T've got to
get some overnight things—and
quickly. If you want to wait I'll
run you downtown as far as The
| Rize.
for me,
I'm going to stay there.
But I've got to rush. Wait here
‘'T'll be right down.”
“All right,” Beranger called af-
‘ter her departing figure and set-
tled himself in the car.
May hurried through the long
marble corridor and roused the
sleepy-eyed elevator boy. Once on
ther own floor she sought the apart-
ment, unlocked the door and went
on into the bedroom. She snatched
an overnight bag from a shelf in
the closet and began packing her
things. She rummaged through
the chiffonier and found a pyjama
suit and a dressing gown. She ran
{into the bathroom and seized her
i the bag.
INSTALLMENT TWENTY-TWO
et articles, throwing them into
She went back into the
bedroom and looked about to see
if anything had escaped her that
she might need.
Her eyes lighted on a picture
of her husband propped up on the
dressing ‘table. She looked at it
and then went over and picked it
up. She started to put it in the
bag. There wasn’t any reason why
she shouldn’t have a picture of Ed,
even though she was going t di-
vorce him. But what did she want
a picture of him for when she nev-
er wanted to see him again. She
set the picture back in place. She
turned again and looked at it. She
picked it up again. Should she
take it—shouldn’t she? Suddenly
she threw the photograph into the
bag. She was wasting time and
she didn’t want to meet Ed here.
She picked up the bag and hurried
toil
| impossible for
! man out there in.his car.
way.’
now ensconced himself sn’the front
scat. She, released the brakes and
oft” they. went...
“It was really frightfully kind of’
you to take me downtown,” Beran-
ger ieaned closer to “May, sighing
luxuriously.
“Tnat’s all right,” May answered.
“You were awfully nice to help me
out tomight—but it doesnt seem to
have done much good.”
“lI can’t understand how you
‘could ever have married such a.
man in the first place.”
“Oh, Ed’s all right,” May bris-
tled a little at this remark abown
her husband. “But he’s made it
e to go on—inar-
ried to him—after tonight. Why,
all the time he was sitting in The
Dead Rdt with me, he had that wo-
Ident:
kncw how he thought he was going
to get away with that.”
“You've undoubtedly forgiven him
so many things that he thinks he
can simply walk all over you,” =e-
ranger toid ‘her sympathetically.
“It’s a ‘saame. I just don’t kn Ww
A
anyone I'd ‘hats’ to see gett::3
abusad by a brute like that m. ‘>
thin yeu. I think it’s positively
‘niecent.”
“Ed Las ‘no rizht to ‘act that
May warmed to the sym a-
thetic understanding of the i .r-
fume manufacturer.
“Of ccurse he hasn’t,”’ Beranz-r
agreed. “And if there's anything T
can do to h.lp wou—"
“Youre awfully kind, Mr. 3
Brie,” May thanked him. ‘Tl c»r-
tainly let you know. Herels % 23
Ritze now. Perhaps I'll stop at
yeur shop tomorrow.”
‘Ah, my dear, dear lady!
gods are smiling!” Beranger ki q
May's hand ana stepped out of tas
car. “Adieu, then. Until tomor-
row!” He waved a farewell.
A porter came leaping up and
took May's bag. “Did you want a
room, lady?” tae man asked.
x es, Stenger May nodded aad
followed the livegled attendant
the ~s ne light=d
lobby to the desi
The hotel was erowded with peo-
ple in evening dress wander.:z
aimlessly about, chatting azd
laughing. A few men turned to
stare at May as she walked acrc s
the room, but she pretended not .o
notice, though it made her feel a
litle uncomfortable to find herself
conspicuous. However, she mus-
tered all her dignity and courage
and addressed the night clerk.
“I'd like a room and bath, please,”
she told the clerk.
“The hotel is very crowded, Mad-
am.” He locked the new arrival up
and down until May flushed under-
neath this heavy scrutiny and felt
as though she had committed some
crime. “We have a convention
here, but I'll see what I can do for
you.” He turned to his tabulated
records and studied them. “Hum,”
he considered. “Room 316; that’s
the only thing I have left. That
has a bath. Front!” He tapped
the bell on his desk and a bellhoy
hurried over and picked up May's
bag. “Just register here, please.”
He swung the big book around and
gave May-a pen. .
“Mrs. »” May began to write.
Then she frowned. Should she reg-
ister “Mrs. May Davis” or “Mrs.
Edward Davis?’ She had never
had to register since her marriage,
and she wasn’t quite certain what
to do. Anyhow she was going to
divorce Ed, so she wrote “May Da-
vis.” “And my car's out front,”
she told the clerk. “Will you have
it put in the garage?” She handed
him the keys.
“Show Mrs. Davis to No. 316.”
The clerk looked at the signature
and then turned to the boy. “Cer-
tainly, Mrs. Davis. The doorman
will attend to it for you.” He took
the keys. ;
May followed the bellhop to the
elevator and then down the long
winding corridor. The boy inserted
a key in the lock and threw open
the door. He switched on the
lights, and May followed him into
the room. He threw up one of the
windows and drew the shades and
then opened the door to the bath-
room.
“Anything else, lady?” he ques-
dresser.
“No, thank you.” May slipped a
coin into ‘the boy‘s waiting palm
and closed the door after him. She
looked around the room, opened a
clothes press and peered inside,
went into the bathroom and tried
the door that led, evidently, to the
next room, found it locked and
then began to unpack.
Davis meantime was standing on
the curb where he had watched the
disappearing tail light of May's car.
He was so disgusted, disappointed
and disgruntled that he felt like
sitting down on the curbstone and
just sitting there for the rest of his
life. Moodily he pulled out his
flask and shook it. It gurgled- con=
solingly.
and took a long drink. Then he
cleared his throat, squared his
shoulders and walked back to his
own car. He threw open the rear
door.
put into the hall, slamming the
door behind her.
a etl gn ay sp
/
JA
tioned, laying the room key on the
He unscrewed the top,
(
jealous of Myra Pfeffer, an. artist.
They have just made up when
Davis receives a supposedly profes-
gional call and finds himself dele-
gated to take Myrna home from a
party because she pretends illness.
On opening her apartment door he
thoughtlessly pockets the key. May,
becoming suspicious, follows him.
Angry, she gets Beranger and they
go to a cabaret. Davis finally lo-
cates May; and once more they are
reconciled. They start for home
only to find Myrna demanding her
key. May leaves, going to the Ritze
Hotel. \
CHAPTER Xll~—Continued
“You get out of here quick, and |
81 ever I catch you meddling in my
effairs again there’s going tc be
trouble.”
his words on Myra. -
The gir! stared at him in amaze-
ment. “Well, , I must say, Dr. Da-
wis,” she began coclkily.
“I don’t care what you ‘must
say,” Davis retorted. “You get
out and mighty quick!”
“Well, you're certainly no gentle-
man.” Myra jumped out of the
car and stamped her foot.
“Will you kindly get out of my
”
wpight eon: I forget what littie
He put on his pyjamas.
“manners I have left?’ Davis threat-
ened.
“I ceria
on her
Street.
“Well, that’s that,” Davis snort-
ed. He got into his car and went
rolling slowly over the asphalt
pavements.
Would May really carry out her
Mhreats, fe wondered. Had she ac-
tually meant that she would try to
get a divorce? The whole thing
wwas absurd.” He'd have to talk her
put of it in some way. Did she
really mean to go to The Ritze or
(was that just a gesture—a gesture
{to make him angry? Surely May
‘couldn’t have meant it. She’d prob-
ebly be home, waiting for him. Oh,
fthere’d be another quarrel, no
‘doubt, birt he'd try to make it up in
gome way.
The thought of May at home sent
him bowling along through the emp-
Ry streets. At the corner of the
Bpartment house he turned off and
an the car around into the garage.
certain he was that everything
would be all right that he did not
Bsk the garage man whether his
wife had brought her car in or not.
He jumped out and hurried to the
thouse as quickly as possible.
In the elevator he turied to the
boy. ‘Has Mrs. Davis come in?”
he questioned.
“Yes, sir,” the boy informed him.
“She come in, but she’s gone out
Bgain.”
“Gone out again!” Davis stopped
suddenly. No use letting the boy
know anything about this. = “Oh,
yes, I phoned her—have to be out
on a case tonight myself.”
“Yes, sir.” The boy stopped the
par and let the doctor out at his
floor.
Davis hurried down the hallway
wnd into his apartment. He went
on into the bedroom. He could see
the signs of May's hurried ‘depar-
ture. Doors open, the light still on,
fpome clothes thrown across a chair-
iback, her toilet articles missing
from the dresser. He groaned.
i Finally he went into the living
room, switched on the main light
there and looked about. He paused,
scratching his head meditatively.
What to do now. May had evi
dently carried out her threat: He
frowned. Then he went over and
soured out a large drink of Scotch
from the decanter on the console
ble. He lit a cigarette and
owned the liquor and perched
imself on the arm of the lounge,
inking. Suddenly he jumped up,
runched out the cigarette, re-filled
s flask, returned to the bedroom
end began throwing his pajamas
inly shall,” Myra turned
heel and went flying up the
hnsTALLM ENT TWENTY-THREE
He watched the effect of |
“If Mrs. Davis telephones,” he in-
formed the boy on’ duty, “tell her;
that I'll be back tomorrow—that 3
try to get in touch with her during’
the day.” :
“Yes, sir,” the boy returned. |
Davis went out into the street,
‘rounded the corner, and hailed a
passing cab.
CHAPTER XIV
“The Ritze Hotel,” Davis directs
ed the taxi driver curtly and step-
ped into the machine.
Onee more the doctor was headed
for downtown, but this time not in:
the mood in which he had started
before. . He.was heartsick, furious,
sorry for himself, all at once. May.
hadn't been very fair, treating him.
the way, she had.. She might at
least have: believed him. He w:3
telling the truth all the time. t
was a sad, sad world. He took or t-
his refilled flask and tried the ef-
fects of another drink. of whisky.
~~ Didn’t do 1 good, liquor didn’t,
he muttered to himself. Only Somes
times it made you forget your.
troubles. And he had plenty to Fo
get. May could have listened
him, anyhow. She didn’t need 2
tear off that way without allowinz
him one word. It wasn’t at all kin
of her. But nobody ever was kinc.
Here he had tried to do everythin z
he could—tried to make up—spok2a
first—swallowed his pride—ever: ~
thing. Everybody was against hin.
He took another swallow of Scotch
and put the flask back into o
pocket.
And he had tHonght Joe Babl: ih
was a friend of his. Joe had gotL 11
into all this trouble, and now .02
wouldn't help him: out of it. Ln
| May was going to divorce him, No
one cared anything about him. IZ
{he died right now there wouldn’t
{ be anybody who'd feel sorry about
: |it.. May wouldn’t even know. And
if she did know,
syouldn’t care.
rorld. !
“Do ya ‘want out here?” The
voice of the taxi driver broke into
Davis’s meditations.
Davis looked out and saw the
Ritze in front of him. “Oh, ves—
sura.” He opened the door and
lurched just a trifie unsteadily into
the street. The porter picked up
his bag. “How much?’ he demand-
ed, trying to read the meter.
“Sixty cents,” the driver re-
sponded.
‘Davis handed the man a dollar
bill: “’S all right.” He waved
away the change and followed the
porter.
“Do you want a room, sir?” the
man was asking him. »
“Yep,” Davis answered moodily.
“Wanna room—don’t care what.”
The porter grinned and led the
way to the desk. Davis scrawled
his name on thé register without
more ado, and addressed the cler.
“Wanna room with bath—beauti-
ful room—best room in th’ house,”
he told the clerk.
“Sorry, sir,” the clerk informed
him. “We've got a convention
here, and we're all full up. I'll see
what I can do, though.” He con=
sulted the room files. “No, thera
isn’t a room with bath left in the
house. I can give you a room, how-
ever—a, nice, outside room, if that'll
do.”
“Sure, I don’t cure—any room,”
Davis nodded.
“Front!” The clerk tapped the
bell on his desk and the bellhop
came running. “Show the gentle-
man to Number 314,” he directed.
“Yes, sir.. Right this way, sir.”
The bellhop started across to the
elevators, followed by Ed, trying
to maintain his dignity and walka.
straight line.
Up they went, and then down
the long corridor, where May had
preceded them only a short time
before. . The boy unlocked the
door of Number 314 and went into
the room, followed by Ed. He
switched on the light, threw up
the window, drew the blinds and
laid the key on the dresser.
“Anything else, sir?” he asked.
“Nope, that’s all—oh, yes, bring
me some Rockite Water an’ some
cracked ice,” he ordered.
“Yes, sir, thank you, sir.” The
boy hurried out, closing the door.
Davis looked around the room,
examining it. He took his flask out
of his pocket and set it on the bed-
side table. Then he opened his
bag and began to unpack his be-
longings.
In the room, separated from Das
vis’ by the white tiled bathroom,
stood May, her negligee thrown
about her shoulders, taking her be-
longings out of her overnight bag.
Among them was the picture of
Davis. She held it up, looked at
it, and then two tears came into
her eyes. It was terrible—terrible
to think that she was going to di.
vorce him—never to see him again.
She set the photograph carefully
on the dresser, regarded it tender-
ly. Ed—her Ed—and to think it
she probably
It was a sad, sad
had come to this.
jealous of Beranger-de Brie, a per-
fume manufacturer, and May is
I§ealous of Myra Pfeffer, an artist.
They have just made up when
\Davis receives a supposedly profes-
‘sional call and finds himself dele-
‘gated to take Myra home from a
party because she pretends illness.
On opening her apartment door he
thoughtlessly pockets the key. May.
' decoming suspicious, follows him.
Angry, she gets Beranger and they
go to a cabaret., Davis finally lo-
cates May: and once more they. are
reconciled. They: start for home
only to find Myra demanding her
kev. May goes to a hotel, followed
by Davis.
CHAPTER X!V-—Contlnued
1. vas so lonely there in the ho-
tel room all by herself. Terribly
lonely.’ But she’d have to get used
to Leinz lonely—that is if she real-
ly civorced Ed. She sighed and
‘turr=d to her unpacking. She re-
moved her toilet articles and took
them into the bathroom, deposit-
ing them on the glass shelf above
ithe gleaming white hand basin,
lard returned to the bedroom, clos.
linz the door.
i In his room Davis was laying
out his belongings and stood con-
ternlating them with a gravity
tha: seemed illy suited to their
portent. He wandered uncomfort-
The maid turned down the spread.
bly about the room and then be-
pan removing his coat and vest.
It seemed such.a pity to con.
‘she supposed was locked, but wh
and ice.
“All right, put it over there)%
Davis indicated the bedside table.
He tipped the departing boy and
then mixed himself a highball.
May, seated in front of her writ: :
ing desk, was chewing the end of
a pen. Should she or shoul
she write. to. Ed? Perhaps she had,
been too hasty after all. Perhaps
she had misjudged her husba
him without a hearing—such a pity
to glve marriage so short a trial.
Perhaps Ed was already sorry f
everything that had happened.
might be as anxious to see her
she was to see him. Anyhow,
wouldn’t hurt just ‘to write him a
little note. It was only being fa :
telling him that she would giv
him a chance to explain. And s
must be fair.
“Rd, dear,” she began, and. then
fell to chewing the pen again. She
wanted the note to sound digni-
fed and yet friendly—after all,
even though they were going to
get a divorce there was no reasel
why they couldn't arrange it am
cably. “I feel that perhaps I have
been a little hasty,” she wrote. “If
you care to talk matters over IT
shall be glad to see you here at
the hotel. May.” She read hs
epistle. © That sounded all righ
Didn’t make it seem as though ss
were anxious, and yet she was v «
ling to do the right thing. Sha
folded up the letter and put it mn
an envelope.
Well, she might just as well 30
to bed. It was a relief to have tiu:t
off her mind. She picked up a jar
of cold cream and impulsively Bb. 2w
a kiss towards Ed’s picture, and
then. furious with herself hurr dl
into the bathroom. Before her 27
an array of shaving articles.
caught her negligee about her &2ud
she was now afraid to try lest it
open. It was quite evident that
there was a party next door using
her bathroom. For a moment :
was frightened, ready to call « 2
room clerk, and then when she say
that all her things had disappeared
she became angry. With a sw==D
of her hand she pushed the: thir 58
off onto the floor.
She ran over to the writing des's
and scribbled a note, returned o
the bathroom and thrust it bene: i
the door, banging against the puxa-
eling as she did so. Then she ‘e-
treated to the safety of her room
and banged the door.
May’s knock brought Davis to at.
tention. He glanced at the door,
then went over and opened it, and
it was then that he discovered ‘lie
‘He caught sight of his shaving ar-
ticles and then remembered that
there was no bath to his room and
he’d have to go out in the morning
to get a shave. It seemed like add-
ing insult to injury.
Then his eyes lighted on a door
from beneath which came a slen-
der streak of light. Perhaps that
waz a bath. He went over and
knelt down, applying his eye to the
keyhole. It was a bath, but how
to get into it? The key to the
Yoom door—that might help. He
searched and found it where the
belllhop had depogited it. He tried
it in the lock. ‘It fitted: He turn-
ed it. The key worked. The door
swung cpen. ‘Now he had a bath.
He returned and picked up hig
shaving articles and carried them
inte the bathroom. He stared,
frowning, at the other articles laid
ut there. A perfume bottle met
his gaze. He picked it up and
‘smelt it. The odor brought back
‘some remembrance that was far
from pleasant. He pulled out the
stopper and calmly poured the lig-
mid down the sink. The other ar-
ticles he carefully seized and flung
them out of the window and then,
equally carefully, deposited his
things and returned to his room,
closing the door.
I A knock at his bedroom door.
Davis called out, “Come in.”
{ A chambermaid entered, a bun-
dle of towels in her arm. “Is
there anything you’d like, sir?”
She raised a pair of deep blue
eyes and smiled faintly. “I brought
some fresh towels.” She arranged
her burden over a chair back.
i Davis looked at this mew arrival
with appreciative eyes. Fluffy yel-
low hair peeped from beneath the
crisp, white cap. A Cupid's bow
mouth with a little dimple at ei-
ther corner held an alluring charm.
“You’re—you’re very kind,” Da-
wis smiled in answer. And at that
moment she did indeed seem very
kind—kinder than anyone had
been for a long time. She was in-
fort. No one else was.
“Oh, thank you, sir.” She smiled
a fleeting smile over her shoulder
and was gone.
Davis started after her, but as
the door closed in his face he turn-
ed back and began pacing up and
‘down moodily. He was lonesome—
terribly lonesome. It was awful
to be alone in a hotel room. And
‘nobody cared whether he was
alone or not. Another knock in-
INSTALLMENT TWENTY-FOUR
note. He closed the door quickly
and opened the paper.
“Whoever you are, will you
please stay out of my bathroom,”
he read. He began to chuck.a.
Then he crumpled up the paper and
tossed it aside, and went back to
his whisky-soda still smiling.
Davis was beginning to feel not
only the effects of the liquor, but
he was beginzing to yawn deep.y.
He tugged at his necktie, unloos-
terested in his welfare, his com-|
ened it, and began to remove both
tie and coliar when another knoe iE
came at his door.
“More visiters around this place,
he mumbled. “All right, come in.’
The pretty chambermaid entered
the room.’ “A.e you sure ‘that
you're quite comfortable?’ she
questioned sweetly. “There's noth-
ing you'd li
Davis, puzzled by the girl's un- ;
usual inter st in him, and yet
pleased, smiled at her.
“Why—er—no,
answered.
“You'il be wanting to go to bed,”
she told him, and began turning
down the spread and arranging the
pillows. :
“Thank you.” Was she being
friendly, or just attending to her
duties, Davis speculated. Anyhow,
she took an interest in him, and
the thought was comforting. e
was feeling very low, indeed.
“There,” she patted the pillows
briskly and turned, to go. “If
there’s anything you need, just
ring.” With one of her long, lin-
gering smiles, she vanished.
In her room May was combing
her hair and preparing for bed. At
last she pulled up the blinds and
then thoughtfully took Ed’s picture
from the dresser and placed it on’
the bedside table. She got into bed,
sent a kiss towards the photograph,
and switched out the light. She
felt more at ease, now that she
thought she would see Ed first
thing in the morning. She would ~
send the letter by messenger to
his office, and she felt sure that h
would come hurrying to the hotel.
For a long time she could not,
sleep. She tossed, trying now this,
side, now that. The noises of the
street all seemed wafted to hen
room. She could hear the tread of
feet through the corridors as lates
comers returned to their rooms.|
Once she got up and tried the door
to make sure it was locked, com-,
pletely forgetting the - bathroom!
door. Then she fell into a light
thank you,” he
doze.