Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1920)

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Blind Husbands THE post coach slowly creaked its way up the laborious road to Cortina D'Ampezzo set in its niche in the mountains. Dr. Robert Armstrong glanced casually at the Austrian cavalry officer seated opposite and in that glance appraised him as a shallow-headed fop. In the same casual reflection he decided his wife who sat beside him would as usual share his opinion, if indeed the doctor went so far in his off-hand observation to formulate it into definite thought. In a moment he dismissed the stranger from his mind and returned to his reading. „ , . r, Dr Armstrong was feeling in excellent humor. After a year of exacting though most satisfactory work at the American Hospital in Paris he was on his way for a fortnight of mountain climbing in the Alps. In a few moments they would be at the quaint Hotel Croce Bianca with its unworldly atmosphere of peace. Old Sepp, philosopher and guide of the region would be there to meet him— Old Sepp, whose words of simple wisdom were a healing balm to the souls of jaded, mmd-weary men They would climb Monte Cristallo this year, he and Sepp, The clean air and the vigorous exercise would put him back' in fine trim for his next year of work. ^ _ A feeling of deep content permeated Dr. Armstrong s bemg^ He was wearing his most comfortable outing togs. He had completely relaxed. Also by the gift of his confreres at the hospital he had a fine line of new scientific treatises with which to regale his leisure moments. Then, too, Margaret was there beside him If she had not been there he would have been desolate with a sense of incompleteness. It would have been much the same as if he had found himself in a sick room without his clinical thermometer. But she was there, and he was possessed of that vague, proud feeling common to unde who do not find it necessary to outwardly demonstrate the state of their emotions. Margaret was looking well, charming and beautiful — that was enough for him. Settling himself more agreeably into the upholstery of the side seat of the coach Dr. Armstrong immersed himself in his book with the complacent smile of the man who considers that he is on perfect terms with a very kind world. Lieutenant Erich Von Steuben, sitting opposite, was a connoisseur of beauty. Also he was an adept at sensing out domestic infelicities which might, with some manipulation, be made to flower into an hour's amusement. "Neglected— and very beautiful" Von Steuben observed as he watched Armstrong plunge into his book quite ignoring the attractive wife beside him. The lieutenant, having an eye for such things, noted too the all but concealed look of mortification which first set her red lips a-quiver, then straightened them into a hard proud line. This was just the sort of thing that he lived for. Von Steuben adjusted his monocle, and placed with studied grace his tapering and perfectly manicured fingers about his sword hilt. Not too forwardly he let his experienced eyes travel in appraisal from the neat ankles to the modish sailor which sat so fetchingly on the pretty head of the unappreciated wife. No woman, especially no woman of beauty, could have been quite unconscious of the officer's gaze, so clearly full of ardent approval as it was — no woman, even far less hungry for some sort of recognition of her power to charm. Margaret Armstrong was tired of being pushed into the background of her husband's life, of being ignored and well near snubbed for some cold inhuman scientific pursuit, of being treated as pleasant and decorative but most unessential. She was young and warm blooded. She was filled with the natural craving for affection and approbation characteristic of an impulsive nature. And though she recognized the covert insolence of the glances of their fellow traveller in the Hotel Croce Bianca bus, she was rather more gratified than insulted at the tribute. While she despised the perfidious bird of prey type that Von Steuben obviously represented she was flattered at his frank appreciation of her physical charms. A crowd of the villagers of Cortina D'Ampezzo in front ot the hotel greeted the arrival of the bus. Sepp was there just as Dr Armstrong had expected, and others whom he had befriended on earlier visits. They shouted jovial welcomes and crowded about the step. The doctor jumped down with outstretched arms. It was wonderful, this cordial friendliness ot the mountain people! In the glow of enthusiasm which swept him he forgot all about Margaret. He said his greetings all around, then as an after-thought turned to see what had become of her. The fop of an officer who had ridden up with them was helping her down the coach steps. Her cheeks were aglow with color and her eyes were bright. It annoyed Armstrong just a trifle that Margaret should permit this posing jackanapes to touch her arm. But it did not occur to him that her eyes might be very bright and her cheeks very red that another should have seen of what very casual importance she was in her husband's attentions. _ The inn keeper showed them to their quarters with a great bowing and display of humble courtesy. _ r>r Armstrong threw down his wraps, answering Margarets