The Desired Woman(Fiscle Part-3 Of 2) by Will N. Harben (e book reader pdf TXT) 📕

Dick,  I Hate Her--From The Bottom Of My Soul,  I Despise Her,  And She

Knows It. Whenever I Pass Her She Takes Pains To Sneer At Me. For One

Thing,  I Hate Her For The Way She Is Treating You And Your Child.

Dick,  That Boy Is The Sweetest,  Prettiest Creature I Ever Saw,  And Not

A Bit Like Her. One Day I Passed Your House When He Happened To Be

Playing Outside The Gate. His Nurse Neglects Him. Automobiles Were

Passing,  And I Was Afraid He Might Get Run Over. No One Was In Sight,

And So I Stopped And Warned Him. I Fell In Love With The Little

Darling. Oh,  He Is So Much Like You; Every Motion,  Every Look,  Every

Tone Of Voice Is Yours Over And Over! He Took My Hand And Thanked Me

Like A Little Gentleman. I Stooped Down And Kissed Him. I Couldn't

Help It,  Dick. I Have Always Loved Children. I Went Further--The Very

Devil Must Have Been In Me That Day. I Asked Him Which He Loved More,

You Or His Mother. He Looked At Me As If Surprised That Any One Should

Ask Such A Question,  And Do You Know What He Answered?"

"I Can't Imagine," Mostyn Replied. "He Is So Young That--"

"Dick,  He Said: 'Why,  Daddy,  Of Course. Daddy Is Good To Me.'"

A Subtle Force Rising From Within Seized Mostyn And Shook Him Sharply.

He Made An Effort To Meet The Frank Eyes Bent Upon Him,  But Failed. He

Started To Speak,  But Ended By Saying Nothing.

"Yes,  I Hate Her," Marie Went On. "I Hate Her For The Way She Is

Acting."

"The Way She Is Acting?" The Echo Was A Faint,  Undecided One,  And

Mostyn's Eyes Groped Back To The Wayward Face At His Side. "Yes,  And

It Is Town Talk," Marie Went On. "You Know People In The Lower And

Middle Classes Will Gossip About You Lucky High-Flyers. They Know

Every Bit As Much About What Is Going On In Your Set As You Do. They

Can't Have The Fun You Have,  So They Take Pleasure In Riddling Your

Characters Or Talking About Those Already Riddled. Dick,  Your Wife's

Affair With Andy Buckton Is Mentioned Oftener Than The Weather. People

Say He Always Loved Her And,  Now That He Is Rich And Rolling High,

That He Is Winning Out. Many Sporting People That I Know Glory In His

'Spunk,' As They Call It. They Are Counting On A Divorce As A Sure

Thing."

"Can They Actually Believe That--" Mostyn's Voice Failed Him; But The

Woman Must Have Read His Thought,  For She Said,  Quickly:

"Don't Ask Me What They Think. I Know What _I_ Think,  And I'll Bet I

Know Her Through And Through. She Is Reckless To The Point Of Doing

Anything On Earth That Will Amuse Her. She Is So Badly Spoiled She Is

Rotten. I Know How You Are Fixed--Oh,  I Know! You Can't Kill Him; You

Don't Love Her Enough For That; And Besides,  You Know You Can't Prove

Anything Serious Against Her. Her Married Women Friends Go About With

Men,  And For You To Object Would Only Make You Ridiculous. They Sneer

At Women Like Me,  I Know; But Lord,  They Can't Criticize Me! I Am

Myself,  That's All. I Can Be A Friend,  And I Can Be An Enemy. I Want

To Be Your Friend,  Dick."

"My Friend?" He Repeated,  With An Inaudible Sigh Drawn From The

Seething Reservoir Of His Gloom.

"Yes,  And Not Only That,  But I Want To Give You Some Good,  Solid

Advice."

"Oh,  You Do?" He Forced A Smile Of Bland Incredulity.

"I Will Tell You What Is The Matter With You,  And How To Get Out Of

It. Dick,  You Have Let This Thing Get On Your Nerves,  And It Is

Hurrying You To The Grave Or The Mad-House. I Know You Well Enough To

Know That It Is On Your Mind Day And Night. Now,  There Is One Royal

Road,  And If You'll Take It The Whole Dirty Business Will Slip Off Of

You Like Water Off A Duck's Back."

"What Is That Road,  Marie?" He Asked,  Affecting A Lighter Mood Than He

Felt.

"Why,  It Is Simply To Do As They Are Doing. Plunge In And Have A Good

Time. You Made All The Money You Ever Made When You Were Living The

Life Of A Red-Blooded,  Natural Man. Marrying That Woman Has Given You

Cold Feet,  And She Knows It. Forget It All. Sail In And Be Glad You

Are Alive. Look At Me. Things Have Happened To Me That Would Have

Finished Many A Woman,  But I Took A Cocktail,  Won A Game Of Poker,  And

Was As Chipper As If Nothing Out Of The Way Had Happened."

"You Don't Understand,  Marie," He Said,  With A Bare Touch Of His Old

Reckless Elation. "That May Be All Right For You,  But--"

"Piffle! Dick,  You Are The Limit. I Can Turn You Square About And Make

You See Straight. Think Things Are Bad,  And They Will Be So. Your Wife

And Her Fellow Are Having A Good Time; Why Shouldn't You? People Who

Used To Admire You Think You Are A Silly Chump,  But They Will Come

Back To You If You Show Them That You Are In The Game Yourself. I Like

You,  Dick--I Always Have,  Better Than Any Other Man I Know. Come To

See Me To-Night,  And Let's Talk It Over."

She Saw Him Wavering,  And Laid Her Hand On His Arm And Smiled Up At

Him In Her Old Bewitching Way. Some Impulse Surging Up From The

Primitive Depths Of Himself Swayed Him Like A Reed In A Blast Of Wind.

He Touched The Gloved Hand With The Tips Of His Fingers. The Look

Beneath Her Sweeping Lashes Drew His Own And Held It In An Invisible

Embrace. He Pressed Her Hand.

"You Are A Good Girl,  Marie," He Muttered,  Huskily. "I Know You Want

To Help Me,  But--"

"I Am Not Going To Take A Refusal,  Dick. I Want To See You. I Want You

To Take The Bit In Your Teeth Again. Come To See Me To-Night. I'll

Have One Of Our Old Spreads In My Little Dining-Room. I'll Sing And

Dance For You And Tell You The Funniest Story You Ever Heard. I Am

Going To Expect You."

There Was A Genuine Warmth Of Appeal In Her Face. In All His Knowledge

Of Her She Had Never Appeared To Such An Advantage. After All,  Her

Argument Was Reasonable And Rational. A Titillating Sensation Suffused

His Being. In Fancy He Saw The Little Dining-Room,  Which Adjoined Her

Boudoir; He Saw Her At The Piano,  Her White Fingers Tripping,  As In

The Old Days,  Over The Keyboard; He Heard Her Singing One Of Her Gay

And Reckless Songs; He Saw Her Dainty Feet Tripping Through The Dance

He So Much Admired.

"You Are Coming,  Dick," She Said,  Confidently,  Withdrawing Her Hand

And Raising Her Sunshade. "I Shall Expect You By Nine O'clock,  Sharp.

I Won't Listen To A Refusal Or Excuse. I Shall Have No Other

Engagement."

He Hesitated,  But She Laughed In His Face,  Her Red Lips Parted In An

Entrancing Smile. He Caught A Whiff Of Her Favorite Perfume,  And His

Hot Brain Absorbed It Like A Delicious Intoxicant.

"I Know You Of Old,  Dick Mostyn. You Used To Say Now And Then That You

Had Business That Would Keep You Away,  But You Never Failed To Come

When You Knew _Positively That I Was Waiting._ I Am Going To Wait To-

Night,  And If I Don't Make A New Man Of You I'll Confess That I Am

A Failure."

"I Really Can't Promise." He Was Looking Back Toward The Smoke-Clouded

City,  At The Gray Dome Of The State Capitol. "I May Come,  And I May

Not,  Marie. I Can't Tell. If I Shouldn't,  You Must Forgive Me. It Is

Kind Of You To Want To Help Me,  And I Appreciate It."

"You Are Coming,  Dick; That Settles It." She Smiled Confidently. "Huh!

As If I Didn't Know You! You Are The Same Dear,  Old Chap,  Ridden To

Death With Silly Fancies. Now,  I'm Going To Run Back And Speak To

Mary. I Forgot Something. She Is All Right. She Won't Talk Even If She

Recognized You,  Which Is Doubtful,  For She Is A Stranger Here."

Turning,  He Walked Back Toward The City. Already He Was In A Different

Mood; His Step Was More Active; All Of His Senses Were Alert; His

Blood Surged Through His Veins As If Propelled By A New Force. He Saw

Some Vacant Lots Across The Street Advertised For Sale By A Real

Estate-Agent,  And Found Himself Calculating On The City's Prospective

Growth In That Direction. It Might Be Worth His While To Inquire The

Price,  For He Had Made Money In Transactions Of That Sort.

Returning To The Bank,  He Found That The Activity Of The Clerks And

Typewriters Did Not Jar On Him As It Had Been Doing Of Late. He Paused

At Saunders's Desk And Made A Cheerful And Oddly Self-Confident

Inquiry As To The Disposition Of A Certain Customer's Account,

Surprising His Partner By His Altered Manner.

In His Office,  Smoking A Good Cigar,  He Found A New Interest In The

Letters And Documents Left There For His Consideration. After All,

Life _Was_ A Game. Even The Early Red Men Had Their Sport. Modern

Routine Work Without Diversion Was A Treadmill,  Prisonlike Existence.

Delbridge Was The Happy Medium. The Jovial Speculator Had Never Heard

Of Such A Fine-Spun Thing As A Conscience. What If Irene And Buckton

Were Having Their Fun; Could He Not Also Enjoy Himself? If The Worst

Came,  Surely A Man Of The World,  A Stoical Thoroughbred,  Who Was

Willing To Give And Take A Matrimonial Joke Would Appear Less

Ridiculous In The Public Eye Than An Overgrown Crier Over Spilt Milk.

How Queer That He Had Waited For Marie Winship To Open His Eyes To

Such A Patent Fact!

All The Remainder Of The Day He Was Buoyed Up By This Impulse. A Man

Came In To See Him About Buying A New Automobile,  And He Made An

Appointment With Him To Test The Machine The Next Morning. It Was Said

To Be Better And Higher-Priced Than Buckton's. He Might Buy It. He

Might Openly Ride Out With Marie. That Would Be Taking The Bull