Part 21

She turned the corner sharply. From the street she could see the yellow glow of gas coming from a side-window of her apartment; the light must come from one of two rooms--her sick senses could not determine which.

"Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!" her breath came in long, inarticulate wheezes. "Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!" A policeman eyed her suspiciously and struck the asphalt with his stick. She turned into the embrace of the apartment house and ran up the three flights of stairs with limbs that trembled under her; her cold fingers groped about before she could muster strength to turn the key in the lock.

Lilly entered noiselessly. The bedroom was dark. Tears sprang to her eyes. For a moment she reeled; then she felt along the parlor wall to the middle room. By the shaft of light from the kitchen she could see the yellow note undisturbed, poised like a conspicuous butterfly. Her hand closed over it--she crushed it in her palm.

"Charley!" she called, and entered the kitchen.

Her husband was standing by the window--his face the white of cold ashes. He looked up at her like a man coming out of a dream.

"Charley," she cried, "I was afraid you'd get worried. I went over to Loo's, and we stayed up and talked so late--I didn't know--"

She stopped at the sight of his face; her fear returned.

"Charley, you--you--"

He regarded her, with the life coming back into his eyes and warming his face.

"It's this heat; this pesky old heat almost got me!"

"My poor, sweet boy!" she said, with a sob of relief. "My poor, sweet boy!"

He caressed her weakly, like a man whose strength has been drained from him.

"You ain't mad at me because I kicked up at supper, are you, Charley? You know I don't mean what I say when I'm out of sorts--you know there ain't nobody like my boy!"

He kissed her.

"No; I ain't sore, honey."

"Here's your milk in the ice-box. You must have just got in before me. An' let me fix you a sardine sandwich, lovey."

"I--I ain't hungry, Lil. I--I can't eat nothin'--honest."

"I want you to, Charley--you've had a hard day."

"Yes, a hard day!" he repeated, smiling.

She prepared him a sandwich. At the sink her foot struck a small, square package bearing a jeweler's stamp. It might have dropped there from nerveless fingers or been wilfully hurled.

She picked it up wonderingly. It was neatly tied with blue cord.

"What's this?"

Her husband started.

"That? Oh, that's the little surprise I was tellin' you 'bout. I started to fix it fer to-morrow; but--but--" His voice died in his throat.

She opened it with trembling fingers.

"It's the silver bracelet!" she cried. "It's the silver bracelet!"

The unshed tears sprang to her eyes.

"Oh, Charley dear, you ain't--you ain't--" The tears came like an avalanche down an incline and choked off her speech.

He folded her to him.

"No, dear; I ain't!" he soothed.

THE END