Argosy All-Story Weekly, June 13, 1925 — page 126: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

598 “What does a few hes more or less matter to your” retorted Dora. ‘“‘ I guess the least you can do for me after the lies you’ve told me an’ the way you’ve ruined my life is lie some more when I ask you to. Now write, ‘ All of which I swear to be true and con- fessed by my own free will because of the great wrong I have done to my wife, Dora, both as such and as Miss Dora Harlow, so help me God. Yours truly, Jeffrey Stalvart.” Jeff wrote as instructed, then made tea for himself, drank it and went to bed to sleep off the hangover. He was soon snoring. Dora too was sleepy, but a cup of tea brisked her up. She too had lost consider- able sleep last night; and at that thought a sly smile gently twitched the corners of her pink lips. But she had no time now for bed. From the front of her dress, next to her skin, she drew a tiny silk bag, which she slipped into her purse. Moving noise- lessly, she packed a suit case, attired her- self for the street, reddened her lips and powdered her nose, and as she did these things quickly and efficiently, she reflected that her condition was not nearly so bad as it would have been if Jeff had not been the complete fool that he was. And her luck had stood by her handsomely. She had taken chances; and yesterday and _ last night she had tested it to the limit, Heaven knows! And it had not failed her. The disclosure of Jeff’s bone-head play with his father and the unfortunate state of affairs between sire and son was a cruel blow to her; but, even so, she had much to be thankful for; and, as a poor deluded and innocent wife and daughter-in-law, she in- tended to make the most of the chance luck had given her. She closed the door behind her without a sound. If you think that Dora stole away from the penniless and snoring Jeff to speed to the arms of one of those friends of hers of vhom Jeff disapproved and stood in awe, you are wrong and you underrate her in- telligence. She had no intention of straining her luck by repeating that particular test. At the top of the street she entered a public conveyance, a low sleigh draped with hairy robes and with a red-nosed driver perched on a high seat in front. Away she went to ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, a tinkling and jingling of silver bells. She alighted at a fashionable jeweler’s; returned to the sleigh twenty minutes later and drove to another fashionable jeweler’s; entered the sleigh again—now with her purse full and the tiny silken bag empty—and drove to the Windsor Station. She was no senti- mentalist, this Dora. She cared no more for the rings which she had but now sold back to the persons from whom they had been bought than the exact sums for which she had resold them; and for the gentlemen who had made the original purchases she cared no more than for the big boob, Jeff. She bought a ticket and boarded a train. Jeff awoke in due course. All evening and all night he sat up and waited for Dora. He did not notice the absence of her suit case, her new coat and the finest of her finery until morning. For an hour or two he sat inert, dazed, helplesss, incredulous. This was too much—to be deserted twice in twenty-four hours. It was more than one man’s share of humiliation; and for hours he refused to believe it. Until well along in the afternoon he did nothing but wait. Then he recalled the names of certain gentlemen with whom he and Dora had dipped occasionally into the bright night life of the city. He looked them up in the telephone directory and then rang them up. Each replied that he knew nothing of the whereabouts of Mrs. Stalvart; but two of them were encouragingly interested. One of these called upon Jeff that night, heard his sad story with a hardening jaw and clouding brow, then cursed Jeff out for a fool and Dora for something else and de- parted in a sulphurous haze. Jeff spent that night too in a chair, still waiting, and more dazed than ever. In the morning the other friend who had evinced interest on the tele- phone turned up in quest of further and more particular information. He, like the other, listened to Jeff’s account of his de- sertion with a freezing jaw and a lowering brow. He, too, departed in a bitter and biting humor. This manner of expressing anxiety struck Jeff as unusual, to say the least of it; and though he knew nothing of the two diamond rings, his bewilderment was tinged with an ugly suspicion that may have been of the truth. COMicboo S C@