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CLASSIC
FINNEGAN ACCUSES DANIELS, AND BOTH ARE ARRESTED FOR THE ASSAULT OF “OVERALLS”
“Yes,” she said, quietly, “yes — good friend — I helped — a little.”
His eyes questioned her. Bettina shook her head.
“By-and-by,” she said; but he insisted mutely, and she told him of the night just passed — how Finnegan and his drunken rabble had come back to camp, and dropped boasting hints of what they had done ; how a posse of twenty or thirty loyal workmen had started out to hunt for him and found him just in time ; how they had brought him home thru the dawn.
“But you?” Drew questioned; “how do you happen to be here?”
The girl met his wistful gaze steadily, tho the color rose in her cheeks. “I went with them,” she told him —
“Peggy Malone and I. Then they accused Finnegan, and Finnegan finally accused Daniels of putting them up to it, and then they were both arrested. And when they brought you here, I — stayed. That is all.”
One of his swollen, purple hands, stretched out on the coarse counterpane, moved painfully till it found her warm sleeve.
“But why have you avoided me all this time?” It seemed as tho the world hung upon her answer ; and she answered as tho that were so, bravely, proudly, from her brave, proud heart.
“He told me — Daniels — two weeks ago, that you were engaged to Peggy Malone, and I tried to put you out of my thoughts, but tonight I knew that
I could not do it, because — I — I just couldn't, and so I went out to hunt for
you with the men ”
She paused, and for the first time her eyes fell.
“And then” — her voice was hurried — "then I heard you calling — my name, and I asked Peggy, and she told me Daniels had lied. And that is why I — I stayed.”
“Miss Warren — Bettina,” whispered Drew, “might I say something to you
now I have long wanted to say ”
He glanced down at his useless arms ; “they wont work,” he continued. “It's a duffer's way of — of— — ” With a little, tender laugh, that was half a sob, Bettina lifted the great hands in hers and held them there.
THE GIRL THAT LOOKS LIKE YOU
The lights are low and a magic spell Seems laid on the motley throng;
No sound is heard as across the screen The players troop along.
But what to me is the passing show As I wait the long act thru.
Until on the screen I see at last The girl that looks like you?
( Forty-nine )
By FLORENCE JONES HADLEY There’s no one else on the stage beside, And she plays to me alone,
But under the current, deep and swift, Runs memory’s undertone.
And I almost stop my heart to hear A name that our love once knew. While my soul calls out in a wordless cry To the girl that looks like you.
The lights are out, and adown the street The human current streams,
And movie lover and movie maid
Have slipped down the Road o’ Dreams. O heart of mine, could I follow them!
But I watch the long night thru And count the hours till I see again The girl that looks like you.