Judge, 1915-10-09 · page 13 of 28
Judge — October 9, 1915 — page 13: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This satirical story by J.A. Waldron depicts a marital confrontation exposing mutual infidelity. Mr. and Mrs. Dalmars return home at 2 a.m. from separate outings in evening dress. When confronted, Mrs. Dalmars coolly deflects her husband's accusations by revealing he was seen at the Café Bouillon with another woman, apparently teaching her "the Hesitation" (a contemporary dance). The satire targets early 20th-century marriage dynamics: both spouses engage in suspected affairs but maintain social pretense. Mrs. Dalmars's calm evasion and refusal to answer questions—dismissing his concerns as "late to talk"—demonstrates her strategic use of indifference as power. The cartoon above shows her climbing a tree while a woman below watches, likely illustrating the absurd chaos of their entanglement. The story suggests modern marriages operated on mutual suspicion and deliberate ignorance rather than honesty.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
VERGING ON AN By J. A. T WAS two o'clock a.m. Mrs. Dalmars, paying and generously tipping her taxi driver, entered the Dalmars residence without noting that her husband in the Dalmars car closely followed. He had seen her running up the steps, and wondered. As he entered Mrs. Dalmars’s dressing room she was standing before her mirror coolly inspecting the angle of her hat. “You just came in?” he ventured. . “Apparently,” she replied, as she removed her wrap. She was in evening dress. Dalmars had never seen her looking so attractive. “T didn’t know you kept such hours.” “Naturally. You are home a bit early, aren’t you?” “Where’ve you been?” “Oh, just enjoying myself. And you?” Dalmars looked both irritation and perplexity. been enjoying yourself. Of course not alone.” “Of course not. Have you? I saw you down at the Café Bouil-* lon. Just looked in. I suppose you dined there. Maybe with the slightly faded young woman—or was it a superfluity of powder?— who appeared to be teaching you the Hesitation. At least she was the better dancer.” Mrs. Dalmars touched a button, and then impatiently but grace- “So you've UNDERSTANDING WALDRON errioxse | fully disposed herself upon a stool and began to remove a shoe, re- vealing a fetching bit of stocking. Dalmars moved toward her nervously. lowing me about?” he asked. She laughed. ‘No. It would keep me too busy,-and really it wouldn’t be interesting.” “Yet you saw me at the Café Bouillon.” “Just an accident—or a coincidence, as I have intimated.” “Well, I want to know who was with you.” “Tsn’t it a bit late to talk?” She waved him away as Dolores, her maid, appeared with hair in papers and rubbing her eyes. ‘Pardon, madame! I fell asleep!” And Dolores deftly began to undress her mistress. “But just one thing,” insisted Dalmars, moving toward the door. “IT wish to know. Who——” “Not now.” There was decision in her tone and Dalmars re- tired. Mrs. Dalmars did not sleep until hours afterward. She knew Dalmars was long awake from the penetrating odor of successive cigars and from noises made with ice and glasses by his man. They met at breakfast at eleven o’clock. Mrs. Dalmars looked “Have you been fol-