Motion Picture Story Magazine (Feb-Jul 1911)

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Til ti CARNIVAL. 103 Jerome's face grew hard. "No," he said shortly, "not since I went away/' "But that expression, man ! That is her expression today. She never used to look so " "That is painted from memory — a memory of long ago — a vision out of a dead past," Jerome replied. Leon, seeing that his friend desired to discuss the matter no more, changed the subject. But he was thinking : "He loves her still ! Only love could paint a portrait like that ! And she " A plan sprang into his fertile brain. "You'll come to the Carnival tomorrow night, Jerome?" he suddenly asked, a bit eagerly. The other shook his head. "For what ? A lot of silly women in ugly costumes; absurd tourists who think they are being very gay and naughty ; the seizing of a mask as an excuse for off-color flirtations " "Xot this one."' Leon assured him. laughing. "This is to be the real thing ; only actors and artists allowed; tourists shot on sight. I particularly wish you to come, Jerome," he added seriously. "There will be present a woman worth knowing." "A woman? Bah!" his friend retorted scornfully, but in the end he went, mostly because he was lonely, the English mother having borrowed the boy for the evening. With a tired smile showing beneath his mask, Jerome wandered about the rooms. It was not so bad as he had expected ; he was even pleased when a chic little shepherdess tried to snare him with dark eyes flashing thru her visor. A moment later Leon, whom he recognized despite his costume and mask, touched him upon the shoulder, and in silence, tho with elaborate pantomime, presented hi in to a masked woman. At the touch of the unknown's band, a beautiful, ringless hand, he was thrilled; a subtle current, half-sad, half-gay, swept thru him, and clasping the woman in his arms he swung into the dance. At the end of it they wandered together to the great con servatory, and settled themselves in a retired nook. The light was dim; the palms that drooped about them gave a hint of far-off, summer lands, where love might be borne in a single flashing glance. The music, subdued by distance, whispered sensuously. Again the electric thrill swept thru him as he realized that her slim lingers were curling about his own, that she was leaning alluringly nearer, her breath like a perfume on his face. A moment later his arms were about her, and she trembled against his breast. Xot one word had either spoken; he shook himself to gain assurance that it was not a dream — but the yielding form was very real in his arms. Slowly he bent his head toward the red lips that met his clingingly. With a choking cry she wrenched away from him, but the little black mask caught upon his cuff link and was torn from her face. "Fiflne !'' he gasped, and tore off his own visor. "My love! My husband!" she whispered, and would have thrown her arms about his neck, but he stepped back, a cold sneer upon his lips. "So this is the manner in which you amuse yourself !" he said, and she shrank as tho he had struck her in the face. "You are even more indiscriminate than I had thought. The first man you happen to meet at a masked ball !" "Jerome! I knew it was you!" she cried in protest, but he with a gesture of contempt turned his back. "Why lie?" he asked coldly, tho he could have cried out with the agony in his heart. With a low moan she1 sank upon her knees, crawling to his feet, striving to seize his hands, to press them to her li,.. "It is the truth, I swear it! It was to see you again that 1 came here tonight— just to try to make you love me again, my husband! Look in my eyes and read whether I have been true to you thru these empty years — , (hid. how empty. Night after night have I sat and listened for your stop upon the