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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79047 ***
+
+
+
+
+                            DOUBLE JEOPARDY
+
+                        BY MARTIN M. GOLDSMITH
+
+                               NEW YORK
+                         THE MACAULAY COMPANY
+
+                           Copyright, 1938,
+                        BY THE MACAULAY COMPANY
+
+                Printed in the United States of America
+
+                                 _To_
+                               E. G. G.
+
+
+    "... And no person shall be subject to be twice put in jeopardy for
+    the same offence."
+
+    --_Constitution of the State of New York_; Article I, Section 6
+
+
+
+
+                            DOUBLE JEOPARDY
+
+
+Is it possible in this day of enlightened justice for a man to be
+punished twice for the same crime?
+
+DOUBLE JEOPARDY answers this question, at the same time
+uncovering the greatest of the many loopholes in our modern
+jurisprudence. In this very human but striking novel are portrayed
+the calamities that can be visited upon any ordinary citizen by the
+cold, dispassionate judgment of our courts and our unimaginative and
+often stupid juries. Through the eyes of the victim, Peter Thatcher,
+this tense revelation unfolds, growing to ugly and utterly ridiculous
+proportions.
+
+"Peter Thatcher has murdered his wife," people said. "I heard them
+quarreling," announced one. "And I," added another, "saw the blood."
+
+To make matters worse, Thatcher himself could not be quite sure of his
+own innocence!
+
+Not a problem novel, not a mystery novel, but rather a cross between
+the two, this thrilling story will be appreciated by those who read
+"The Postman Always Rings Twice."
+
+
+
+
+                               PART ONE
+
+                               THE ROOTS
+
+
+I suppose it was that five-point-nine that was to blame--or the gunner
+who fired it; or maybe it was my own fault for lagging behind the
+rest of my battalion as we advanced deployed through that ploughed-up
+cemetery; but, somehow, I find myself laying it all before Anita's
+door. She would never have permitted me to marry her, feeling the way
+she did. As my mind wanders back over those days long ago I remember
+that I was certain I would die if she refused me; now I may die because
+she didn't.
+
+They are going to bury her tomorrow, or so I've been told, and they
+are holding me responsible for her death. The District Attorney,
+who visited me in my cell this morning, says that I am sure to get
+the Chair. But I am not afraid. On the other hand, my own lawyer is
+confident they will have to let me go free. In the event that he
+is wrong and they do sentence me to die, it will not matter much.
+After what I have been through, death no longer presents a terrifying
+picture. And this is very strange for I have always been afraid to die.
+
+If only I had been born fearless, like Carter or Mullins or Sergeant
+Wilkinson, maybe all this would not have happened. There is an old
+saying that Fortune favors the bold. But because the thought of
+dying and the rattle of machine-guns made me tremble, I crept into a
+shell-hole and remained there, digging my fingers into the soft earth
+while everyone else continued to advance.
+
+Practically the entire battalion was wiped out during the next half
+hour. Had I not broken ranks and hidden myself, protected by the cover
+of darkness, I would have been killed then and there with my comrades
+and spared the subsequent nightmare that became my life. I would have
+died a hero; not a murderer. But, naturally, I knew nothing of what the
+future had in store for me.
+
+It was while I huddled in that shell-hole that a five-point-nine
+shrieked close to my head. That is all I can remember until I
+suddenly came to my senses more than three months later in a small,
+French hospital forty kilometres from Paris. Little did I dream that
+that shell would form one of the most important links in a chain of
+circumstantial evidence which would indict me, try me, and convict me
+of a crime later to be committed four thousand miles away! A theologian
+would claim, no doubt, that God punished me for being a coward, and
+perhaps that assumption is correct. I don't pretend to know. All that
+I _do_ know is that I've certainly been through hell since the war and
+that if I had known then what I know now and been given the choice
+either of advancing with the rest and stopping a bullet or lagging
+behind and living, I most certainly would have chosen the former.
+
+It has always been my custom to hide my unnatural timidity; but here,
+in this confession, explanation of my peculiar behaviour, or what have
+you, I have resolved to be absolutely frank and truthful. Since my
+childhood, any action, sport or utterance of words which might in some
+way lead to physical violence I have painstakingly avoided. It might
+have been for this reason that I chose the career of doctor with the
+altruistic ambition to help alleviate some of the world's suffering.
+However, after two years of pre-medicine, my widowed mother passed away
+and I was forced to give up my studies and use the small insurance in
+the opening up of a drugstore.
+
+It wasn't much of a store, compared with the glittering chrome and
+steel of modern places. The prescription room was only half the size
+of this cell from which I write and the little wooden counter, where
+my errand-boy dispensed bottled soda-pop and ice-cream, was scarcely
+longer than this cot. But it was mine. I was proud to be its sole
+proprietor. The first day I was in possession of the place I had a
+large green and white sign painted:
+
+                        THE ITHACA DRUG COMPANY
+                            Peter Thatcher
+                              Apothecary
+
+All this was late in 1915, when I was only twenty-four years old, and
+I suppose that my extreme youth did little toward establishing my
+reliability as a competent pharmacist. The people of the town--and
+when I say this I do not mean the Cornell students--a good many of
+them knowing me from the time I was a little boy, could scarcely have
+confidence enough to permit me to compound their ofttimes dangerous
+prescriptions. My small store would probably have failed in that first
+year had it not been for old Doc Turnbull who sent me all his work and
+was instrumental in spreading around town the fact that I, at least,
+never took a drink during business hours. In this manner he helped my
+trade, at the same time doing much to damage the reputation of his
+old-time enemy, Ray Cavender, who owned the apothecary shop on the
+opposite corner.
+
+Those were comparatively happy days. I was working very hard building
+up a business and time did not hang heavily on my hands. Also I was
+single then; my heart was my own and I was not even contemplating
+marriage. As a matter of fact, women have always awed me somewhat
+and I have generally avoided them. As a boy I was inordinately shy
+and whenever a girl schoolmate was thrust upon me as a partner for a
+two-step, my chums would jeer: "Look at him blush!" Whereupon, sadly,
+the color was sure to flood my cheeks.
+
+Perhaps it was this shyness that prevented me from having the multiple
+"puppy-loves" people are always talking about. At least I know, if
+there can be any satisfaction in that, that I have never been in love,
+even momentarily, with anyone other than the girl I eventually made my
+wife. You may be inclined to doubt that I loved even _her_. The press
+has been very unkind. The reporters I have allowed to interview me did
+not seem to understand that a man can kill someone he loves and still
+feel no pangs of remorse. No, I am not sorry I killed Anita. As a
+matter of fact, I'm not entirely sure I _did_ kill her. Theoretically
+she killed herself and I was merely the instrument that brought about
+her end.
+
+But I am running ahead of my story. The statements I have just made
+sound contradictory and until you have all the facts I cannot hope that
+you will understand.
+
+Just as I manifested no interest in women, women manifested no interest
+in me. I am not bad to look at, I think. I am rather short but with
+a good build. I am rarely ill and even now, after many years of
+deciphering scrawled prescriptions, my eye-sight is perfect. But there
+has never been anything about me that would attract a girl. I am not
+very romantic and for this reason my life, up until the time I met
+Anita, was curiously empty of heart throbs.
+
+I lived all alone in my mother's house. Although I could have made
+excellent use of the money it would have brought, I could not part with
+it. Quite a number of times I was approached by real estate investors
+who offered "to take it off my hands." While their propositions were
+inviting, I could not imagine myself living any other place. The house
+was very old, built way back in the Civil War days by my father, and
+not too large to be comfortable. It was situated on a quiet road lined
+with great elm trees; and it had a garden which sloped down to the
+bank of Lake Cayuga. In the summer I used to spend much of my time
+there after I had closed the store, watching other young people drift
+by in canoes or bathe on the opposite side of the cove. Their light
+laughter as they splashed about came pleasantly to my ears and made
+me feel very contented. Occasionally I thought of the European War as
+the buzzing of mosquitoes around my head suggested the droning flight
+of planes. It always seemed strange to me that humans can be social at
+one moment and fired with the desire to destroy at the next. And as I
+pondered this paradox of nature I was thankful that I lived in America
+where there was so little discord.
+
+Some evenings Doc Turnbull would stop by in passing on his evening
+round of patients and we would talk. I should say _he_ would talk for
+most of the time I merely listened. He was a fat old man with a great
+mop of white hair and very bushy brows. It was often impossible to see
+his eyes but they were generally twinkling with good humour. He was not
+a very cultured person for he was gruff, outspoken and perpetually
+profane. However, even with his solecisms and epithets there was an
+uncanny truth in whatever he said. Many of his homely observations
+which at the time I decried I have since recognized to be correct. If
+he were alive today, I would write to him and tell him that I have at
+last discovered his greatness.
+
+"Pete," I can hear him saying, "people never thank you for the
+truth. They expect you to lie; and if you don't live up to their
+expectations.... Well, by the Jesus, they tie a tin can to your tail.
+It's like a woman who asks you how she looks. If you don't praise
+her ... off comes your head!"
+
+I ventured no comment to this because I had a sneaking feeling what he
+was leading up to. Grateful as I was to Doc Turnbull, I did not want
+him telling me how to run my business. I wanted to run it myself.
+
+"That's why you've just lost old lady Cahill as a customer, boy.
+What? You didn't know you'd lost her? Well, you have. You see, Pete,
+I've been treating that bitch for almost fifteen years. Treating
+her for what, I don't know. There ain't really nothing the matter
+with her except one helluva disposition. She just ain't happy 'less
+she's got something to complain about. To use one of them new-fangled
+names, she's a hypochondriac. Why, say, if I didn't hand her a fancy
+Latin label for all her ailings, she'd up and have that young squirt
+Carpenter over inside ten minutes. So, as far as I'm concerned, she's
+suffering from a chronic _omnia gallia in tres partem_ complicated by
+a slight _e pluribus unum_." Doc paused and spit reflectively before
+adding, "You shouldn't have tipped her off that what I prescribed for
+her was only a mixture of salt, bicarb and water. She raised hell, I'm
+telling you. I had to change it to sugar, bicarb and water. And she was
+so peeved at you for telling her she looked the picture of health that
+I just know she'll take her trade somewhere else."
+
+I am reluctant to admit that there were other incidents like the one
+described. At least five or six times I was unwittingly instrumental
+in getting the Doc in hot water with his patients, not realizing that
+there was such a thing as being _over_-sympathetic. I was certain that
+it would make any person happier to know that there was nothing really
+serious about his or her condition. How little I knew of life! But Doc
+was always forgiving and while occasionally disgusted with me for being
+so inept a pupil, he never ceased his frequent visits to my home until
+after my marriage.
+
+Anita never liked Doctor Turnbull and I am positive he sensed it. After
+he had gone home, she would very often become abusive. Also, whenever
+I failed to hang up my clothes or neglected to wipe my feet before
+entering the house she would accuse me of rapidly becoming "a pig like
+that Turnbull quack." In the beginning, I tried to put in a quiet word
+of defense for the old fellow who was my friend, reminding her that
+were it not for him the drugstore would fail. Soon, though I took to
+holding my tongue. It only enraged Anita and, being a person set in
+her opinions, it did little good trying to make her like him as I did.
+Besides, since I was in love with her, it always distressed me to see
+her upset. Hence, Doc's visits became fewer, longer intervals elapsed
+between them, and soon he did not come at all. The only chats I ever
+had with him thereafter were at the store when I was too busy and he
+too much in a hurry to linger long.
+
+But to get back to Anita. I first set eyes upon her on April 17,
+1917, when business was booming and the nation was infected with war
+hysteria. You may think it strange that I am able to remember the exact
+date some twenty years later; but I have in my hand the prescription
+she brought in to be filled. It was made out to Miss Anita Hunt by Leo
+Carpenter, M.D., and called for a capsule (terpin, hydrate and codeine)
+generally useful in relieving a minor chest congestion. I remember that
+when she passed it over the counter she remarked that she was paying
+the price for an early swim in the lake.
+
+I will spare you her description. Besides, you have probably seen her
+pictures in the newspapers and marvelled at her beauty. One of those
+pictures was taken shortly after we were married so you can see why my
+heart stopped beating as I looked into her eyes. I think my hand must
+have shook as I went about the business of filling the prescription. I
+was infinitely grateful that there was no one in the store who would
+cry, "Look at him blush!" for I feel sure that I would have dropped
+through the floor.
+
+I remember that my fingers felt all thumbs as I worked, for her clear
+voice distracted me. She casually remarked that she had just come to
+town a few days before and asked me if I knew of any nice furnished
+rooms. She went on to explain that at present she was stopping at the
+Colonial House which was far too expensive for her new job at the Knit
+Shoppe. After I had blurted out the suggestion that Mrs. Michaelson's
+boarding house on North Tioga was perhaps the place she was seeking,
+she thanked me warmly, handed me twenty cents for the package and left
+the store. In my confusion I said nothing. The fact that I usually
+charged a quarter for the capsules was forgotten. I only knew that the
+girl was the most fascinating customer it had ever been my privilege
+to wait on.
+
+I finished the remainder of the day in somewhat of a trance. I vaguely
+recall having filled a prescription for fat Mrs. Burtleson and removed
+a particle of dust from Joe Crespi's eye but the rest remains a blank.
+My record book, which they have permitted me to keep in my cell and
+which I hope will jog my memory of those days I am trying to describe,
+states that I sold eight bottles of cough syrup on that particular day,
+two hot-water bottles, six toothbrushes, fourteen rolls of bandages,
+and that I filled twelve prescriptions. If I did, I can't remember. But
+I know that when I sat near the lake that night and smoked with old Doc
+Turnbull, I found myself strangely inattentive and, for the first time,
+glad when he went home.
+
+I was thinking how wonderful it might be for any man to call such a
+woman "wife." The usual vision of pipe, slippers and soft music on the
+gramophone, a large dog, the evening paper and Anita darning socks
+lingered to drug my mind; pleasant pictures even though slightly
+absurd. I slumped down in my chair and smoked cigarette after cigarette
+until it was very late. One by one the lights across Cayuga winked out.
+The faint breeze that had been present all evening gradually whipped
+itself into a wind. In the elms the night crickets fell silent and only
+the quiet slap of the ripples on the shore came to my ears.
+
+It was not until after I had sneezed several times that I realized I
+was catching cold. But more important still, it dawned on me that I was
+falling in love. I rose from the chair, cramped and stiff, went into
+the house and took two aspirin tablets before crawling sleepily into
+bed.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+During the weeks that followed Anita became the most popular girl in
+town. She often came into my store just before closing time in the hot
+evenings for some ice-cream or a bottle of cool soda. Usually she was
+with young Doctor Carpenter whom I had known at medical school.
+
+Carpenter was a pleasant enough chap and I rather liked him--despite
+Doc Turnbull's disgruntled remarks. He was the son of the town's
+wealthiest realtor whose poor health forced him to spend much of
+his time away from home at various resorts and spas. Therefore, Leo
+generally lived alone, surrounded by servants in the big brick house on
+the Heights. The boy was tall and handsome with a neat blond moustache.
+It was his habit to finger it whenever he was perplexed. I recall
+hearing the story that one day he was called into consultation at the
+request of one of Doc Turnbull's patients. Leo took so long to arrive
+at the simple diagnosis that the old medico became annoyed. "For the
+love of God!" shouted Turnbull suddenly. "Will you quit yanking that
+damned thing and tell the lady her bellyache's an acute appendicitis!"
+In revenge, Leo spread it about town that old Doc's bedside manners
+were as comforting as those of a callous veterinary. A feud ensued,
+lasting for several months. Then it died as suddenly as it had started
+and the two merely regarded each other with cold disdain.
+
+Of course it was only natural that Leo's good looks and custom
+tailoring should make him popular with the town girls and even with
+the young men. He was the proud owner of a Winton Six touring car, a
+beautiful $2800 machine in which he made his professional rounds. In
+the evenings during spring and summer it was his custom to pack his
+car with young people and roar away in the direction of the Tompkins
+Country Club. I say, _in the direction of_ because I was never invited
+along on any of those rides. I am afraid that I was never popular with
+any but the older people who were my customers and with whom I would
+sympathetically discuss their various ailments. It may be that I was
+too serious about myself and my little store; but I did want to succeed
+and often I would dream of the time when the store would be larger.
+
+You may be sure that I went through considerable agony watching the
+girl with whom I was in love constantly being escorted by the handsome
+physician. The more times I saw her in his company the more I loved
+her and the less attention I paid to business. My regular patrons soon
+noticed my distraction. Doc Turnbull, with his customary rare insight
+into human nature, almost hit upon my trouble. "You should soon be
+thinking of getting married, son," he grunted as he chewed away at his
+cigar. "We all need the womenfolk, you know. It ain't natural for you
+to sweat all day in your dope-shop and then go home and cook your own
+grub. Look around and pick yourself a slave!"
+
+I tried to cover up my embarrassment by offering the jocular comment:
+"And be hen-pecked like you? Not on your life!"
+
+Turnbull winced. "Oh, a man can be happy," he insisted, "even though he
+_has_ got a wife. That is, provided he knows the formula for marital
+bliss." He paused, waiting for me to express the desire to hear this
+formula but I am afraid my mind was wandering again. "Up to forty,
+double bed; forty to fifty, single beds; fifty to sixty, separate
+rooms; above sixty, separate homes."
+
+I laughed at this and asked him how old _he_ was. "Me? Oh, that's for
+those who can afford it. You can't get rich shoving pills down people's
+throats ... unless you've got a tricky moustache."
+
+Hurriedly, I changed the subject. I did not want him to start
+discussing Carpenter. It might lead to mention of Anita. It had somehow
+leaked out that they were already engaged and rumor had it that they
+contemplated an undelayed marriage.
+
+In a small town a drugstore is invariably the center of
+gossip--barber-shops running a close second--and I am sure that I was
+the most informed person in town. I was always the first to know things
+and very often people would ask me questions about what so-and-so
+intended to do. Not wishing to be involved in the spreading of
+malicious gossip, it was my policy to look innocent and even surprised
+that they expected me to know.
+
+To the remarks I overheard concerning Anita and Dr. Carpenter I took
+little heed. It would never do for anyone to suspect my own interest
+in the girl. Folks might laugh or guy me about her. Besides it might
+get back to Anita. So I contained myself as best I could and tried
+to dismiss the remarks casually. In this, I pride myself on being
+successful. Up until the day I married Anita before the Justice of the
+Peace no one uncovered my true feelings.
+
+One Saturday afternoon Leo and Anita were in the store and fell to
+quarreling. I can't remember how the argument started exactly but it
+became more vigorous as the minutes passed until I felt embarrassed
+witnessing it. I retired to the drug room, hoping that a customer
+would come in so that they either would have to cease their quarrel
+or continue it some place else. From what I overheard I gathered that
+Anita wanted to attend some party or other and Leo did not. This seemed
+to me to be a trivial cause for a scrap but, at length, Anita stamped
+out of the store, slamming the screen door viciously behind her. Leo
+remained where he was.
+
+As I came from the back, carrying some packages of supplies to explain
+my disappearance from the scene of the dispute, Leo made the remark:
+"Well, if that's the way she feels, to hell with her!" Then he turned
+to me. "Aren't women the limit, Pete? Treat them nice, and the first
+thing you know they think they own you!"
+
+From that time on, I am afraid I entertained the notion that Leo was
+not in love with her; and that if she was capable of ranting at him the
+way she had, the affair would not last long. I did not know then that
+passion plays strange tricks on people. I did not know that the ones
+who hate hard, love hard.
+
+The following day I learned that Anita had gone to the party unescorted
+and, although the weather was too cold to be suitable, had taken a
+swim. To my disappointment, I also learned that they had made up later
+on and had driven off in his car for the remainder of the evening.
+
+Indeed, the graph of my hope was erratic; first up and then down as
+weeks rolled by. Whenever she would come into the store to purchase
+some item she would smile pleasantly and direct at me only those
+impersonalities which had to do with the temperature or the weather.
+Only once did she say, "And how are _you_ today?" Fearful that in a
+moment of weakness I might let slip something which would give me
+away, I retreated behind my best storekeeper's manner.
+
+The opinion might be formed by this time that I am something of a stoic
+and, except for one instance which I set down at this point, I think I
+did rather well in concealing my love. But I could scarcely keep myself
+from vaulting the counter and striking Doctor Carpenter the day he
+walked into my store and requested that I sell him a certain article
+which, I had no doubt, he intended to employ in wooing the woman for
+whom I yearned. Naturally, I did no such thing. Instead, I controlled
+my temper and curtly informed him that I was completely sold out of
+what he wanted. I think he looked at me in a puzzled way. My tone,
+I suppose, was quite the reverse of the usual deferential manner I
+adopted when speaking to customers.
+
+In that the doctor weighed fully twenty-five pounds more than I did,
+and was well respected as an amateur boxer, you may draw the conclusion
+if you like that I controlled myself because I was afraid of reprisals.
+Carpenter was not the type of man to permit himself to be struck
+without retaliating. But the truth of the matter is that at the moment
+I was too enraged to think of what bodily harm any such action on my
+part would involve. I held myself in check only because I knew it would
+give me away.
+
+Through the plate-glass window, I watched the doctor cross the street
+and enter Ray Cavender's place, proceed to the back of the store and
+emerge a few minutes later putting something into his vest pocket. I
+felt sick to my stomach and a little dizzy. I locked up the drug room
+and, when my errand-boy returned from a delivery, I ordered him to take
+charge of the place for the rest of the day.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The following events which immediately preceded my marriage seem now
+to have happened with incredible swiftness but I imagine the days must
+have appeared intolerably long at the time. My prescription record
+informs me that on June 28, 1917, I began to make myself sleeping
+powders out of mild opiates. Since I am usually a sound sleeper, this
+suggests that I tossed and turned on my mattress as my mind tortured
+me by conjuring up visions of Anita in the arms of my rival.
+
+It was Mrs. Michaelson, Anita's landlady, who first brought me the news
+that Anita and Carpenter had set the Fourth of July as their wedding
+day. My heart sank when I heard this. In despair I tried to persuade
+myself that it was merely a rumor without the slightest foundation
+of fact. To more or less substantiate my theory, Henry Liscombe, the
+County Clerk, who frequently patronized my store, had made no mention
+of issuing a license to the couple and Henry was the town's most
+garrulous individual. That night, however, I learned to my dismay that
+Anita had quit her job at the Knit Shoppe, telling her employer that
+she was going to be married.
+
+As I was locking up on the evening of July 2nd I again encountered
+Mrs. Michaelson. Being something of a pet of hers from the days when
+I helped her carry bundles from the fruit stand (where I used to work
+during summers) to her buggy, she was accustomed to confide in me many
+interesting tidbits concerning her lodgers. So it was not without
+precedent that she related to me, almost verbatim, the terrible scrap
+that had taken place between Anita and the doctor in her back parlor.
+
+"When he showed her the telegram, Peter, I thought the roof would come
+off! She was that mad! I was in the dining-room, mind you, setting the
+places for supper. I couldn't help overhearing the whole thing!"
+
+That the Michaelson dining-room was immediately adjacent to the back
+parlor, I was well aware; and she could very easily have retired to the
+kitchen had she so desired. But, of course, I did not suggest this to
+her. I was only too grateful for any news which had to do with Anita's
+plans.
+
+"Never in all my born days did I see a body so unreasonable," went
+on the old lady. "Here's that poor boy Leo with a telegram saying
+that he'd better hike himself out to Phoenix right away if he wants
+to see his father alive; and here's that Hunt baggage insisting that
+they _both_ go ... after the wedding, of course! Well, Leo minced no
+words, I can tell you! He said: 'That would be nice, wouldn't it?
+Having a honeymoon while my dad's dying. I'm sorry, Anita. We'll have
+to postpone getting married until I come back.' At that she flies
+completely off the handle! But c-o-m-p-l-e-t-e-l-y! 'If you run off now
+without taking me, after I quit my job and told everyone I was getting
+married on the Fourth, you can stay away forever for all I care!' Well,
+Peter, to make a long story short, as I've got to get back to the house
+and see to it that that hired girl's cleaned up the kitchen before
+sneaking home, Leo turns on his heel and leaves her standing there.
+They were supposed to go out somewhere, too. I don't know if he'll
+go through with his trip or not but there's a train out to New York
+tonight at nine and if he isn't aboard it, I'll be mighty surprised!"
+
+Mrs. Michaelson hurried off down State Street, little dreaming that she
+had caused a great jubilance to well up within me. My mental scoreboard
+chalked up another point for my team.
+
+That same evening after I had cooked and eaten my solitary meal, I
+decided to take a little stroll. It had been very warm all day but,
+with the going down of the sun, a welcome cool descended, bringing me
+renewed energy. This was rather a phenomenon because I usually felt
+totally spent after ten hours on my feet, and walking, whether in
+the evening cool or not, was an activity it was my habit to avoid.
+Nevertheless, on that night I found myself irresistibly drawn to the
+railroad station.
+
+Arriving there, I lingered in the shadows of the closed freight
+warehouse, my attention riveted on the lighted interior of the
+waiting-room. I looked at my watch. It was ten minutes to nine. I was
+badly in need of a smoke but I did not want to risk revealing myself to
+anyone who might happen by. From where I stood I could not of course
+see the lights of Ithaca's famous crescent but the Trumansburg road
+rose in a steep, broken line of lights, reminding me, for no apparent
+reason, of Jacob's ladder. A west-bound freight, probably going to
+Buffalo and Chicago, thundered past. The headlight of the locomotive
+rested upon me for a brief moment and then flashed away.
+
+Soon I was rewarded for my patience. Doctor Carpenter stepped out of
+the waiting-room and onto the platform, carrying two satchels. Far up
+the track the whistle of a train came faintly mournful to my ears. I
+looked around for some sign of Anita. I could see none. If she was
+there, she must be still inside the waiting-room. The two pieces of
+luggage, though, were a bad omen. Moreover, the doctor kept turning his
+head this way and that as if he expected someone.
+
+Soon the train ground and hissed to a stop. A porter descended and
+lifted the two bags into the Pullman and as the conductor cried, "All
+'board!" and waved a signal to the engineer, the doctor reluctantly
+climbed up as the train gathered speed.
+
+Well! No words of mine can express how elated I was! I could have
+sung and, strangely enough, that is exactly what I did do. My voice,
+at best, has never been much more than a nasal groan which, as it
+increases in volume, gets worse. As the train disappeared in the
+distance, its red tail-lantern shrinking smaller and smaller until it
+could no longer be seen, I let loose my joy with such fervor that every
+person within a mile of the station must have been seriously alarmed. I
+remember the station-agent came out onto the platform and recognizing
+me asked: "What's the trouble, Pete? Ya sick?"
+
+Of course I recalled that Carpenter and Anita had scrapped before and
+had made up within a few hours. But this, I hoped, would be a permanent
+rift which they would never allow their prides to bridge. While my own
+suit was in no way furthered, at least I knew my most formidable rival
+was temporarily out of the picture, leaving the field clear. It was now
+up to me.
+
+But how? I had never had any great experience with women and, except
+for one or two occasions at medical school when, in the company of some
+classmates, I visited a house of ill repute, absolutely no intimate
+relations with them at all.
+
+This problem occupied my mind that night as I returned to my house
+and took up my usual position near the lake. That I could never be
+happy without Anita had long ago impressed me; and I knew that unless
+I worked fast the doctor might return and make up with her. Yes, or
+she might become infatuated with someone else. There were so many nice
+young men in town, business people and wealthy students from up on the
+hill. I wondered at my conceit in hoping to succeed.
+
+Fortunately, the problem solved itself without my having to devise
+any schemes by which she would fall in love with me and consent to a
+marriage. And the very night that marked Doctor Carpenter's departure
+from the scene marked the fulfillment of all my dreams.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I must have dropped off to sleep in my deck-chair for several hours on
+that night of July 2nd; for when I opened my eyes the absence of any
+lights across the lake made it obvious that midnight was a thing of the
+past. I felt refreshed after my nap and, as my mind awakened and became
+conscious of what had transpired earlier, I felt even buoyant. Despite
+the fact that I would have to be at the store earlier than usual the
+next morning to receive a shipment of fireworks, I decided not to turn
+in. I was not the least bit sleepy and anyway I wanted to think.
+
+But on my back porch I had left a light burning and it annoyed me.
+Although my back was to it, the yellow glow coming over my shoulder
+seemed to intrude upon the welcome comfort of the darkness. The night
+was unusually dark for that season of the year. The sky was a vast
+expanse of mourning veils, uncontaminated by a moon or even by stars.
+And the air was almost cold.
+
+Over Cayuga the wind seemed to moan the syllables of the lake's name
+and the rustling leaves of the trees sounded like the applause of some
+vast audience. Even with these noises, I got the strange feeling that
+it was quiet.
+
+Always having been an ardent admirer of Nature and never having failed
+to be impressed by each and every one of her miracles, I am also sadly
+ignorant of her--like most people. I have never been able to remember
+the names of stars or trees or to distinguish types of birds; but I
+have always appreciated their beauty and often thought how strange the
+world would be if there were no such things. At the moment, however,
+even Nature could not force her way into my thoughts, occupied as they
+were with Anita and the baffling problem of winning her.
+
+As I was about to extinguish the porch light, I was startled by the
+sound of splashing in the lake. I left the light burning and made my
+way to the shore. Something was emerging from the water. I could not
+make out who it was or even if it was a human. At first I fancied it
+might be some dog belonging to a neighbor.
+
+"Who's there?" I called, feeling very silly.
+
+I was rewarded by a groan of relief. "So you've awakened at last, have
+you? I've been paddling around for over an hour! Didn't you hear me
+call?"
+
+The voice shook me and I fumbled in my pockets for a match. I might
+have spared myself the effort because I recognized her voice instantly.
+The match flared and before it flickered out, burning the tips of my
+fingers, I saw that she was in a bathing suit and shivering with the
+cold.
+
+"Miss Hunt!" I gasped.
+
+"That's right," she replied, her teeth chattering. "And whoever you are
+I'm sorry to have got you out of bed. I'm afraid I lost my bearings in
+the dark. Am I anywhere near town? Lucky I saw your light."
+
+I struck another match so that she would recognize me. Needless to say,
+this unexpected visit seemed most portentous and left me temporarily
+tongue-tied. Of all the persons who might have been swimming in the
+lake, it had to be Anita! And of all the places she might have come
+ashore, it had to be at my own landing! I almost began to believe in
+God.
+
+Now when I look back on it I can only regret that she came that night.
+If I had not left that light burning, in all probability she would have
+drowned or landed at some other point. In any case I am certain we
+would never have been married and the marriage, I reiterate, was the
+direct cause of my undoing.
+
+"I'm Peter Thatcher," I managed to say.
+
+"Yes, of course. I know. The druggist man."
+
+I became suddenly aware that her mouth was blue with the cold and that
+her arms were goose-flesh. "Will ... will you come inside, Miss Hunt?
+You've got to warm yourself or you'll catch your death of cold. I ... I
+live alone here," I stammered apologetically as an after-thought.
+
+As I uttered this, I was sure she would refuse. Ladies did not visit
+bachelor's homes unchaperoned in the dead of night.
+
+"I was waiting for you to invite me in." And she accepted my invitation
+with a celerity that was not surprising when you saw how chilled she
+was.
+
+"I was only thinking of the proprieties." I removed my Norfolk jacket
+and placed it about her wet shoulders--not without misgivings because
+the shirt I was wearing was rather shabby and none too clean. She
+murmured her thanks.
+
+"Proprieties? I'm only interested in something warm."
+
+"Watch out for those sharp stones," I warned her. "You'll cut your
+feet. I've been promising myself to clear this beach for years but
+somehow I never got around to it."
+
+Guiding her with a hand on her bare elbow, we soon reached the house. I
+led her around into the living-room. "If you'll wait here, Miss Hunt,
+I'll run upstairs and find you some towels and maybe something to warm
+you up inside. I'm afraid that there are no logs for this fire-place
+but ... but it might be warmer in the kitchen if I light the stove." I
+remember that I felt ashamed to suggest that. In those very formal days
+one did not entertain their guests in the kitchen. Now, I understand
+that parties are given in attics, cellars, kitchens and even in hotel
+bedrooms. Such affairs twenty years ago were almost unheard of.
+
+But Anita smiled reassuringly. "O, let's do go into the kitchen. I'll
+be lighting the stove while you fetch the towels."
+
+I must confess that I am not much of a housekeeper, and during the
+years I lived alone, my place was generally very untidy. It was my
+custom to hire a scrub-woman on the first of each month to do a
+thorough job of hoeing out. Frequently, by the end of the month I would
+find myself without a clean dish to eat from and all of my towels
+black with shoe polish. Therefore I was infinitely grateful that this
+was the _second_ of the month. With everything in good order the little
+house was very presentable and I know that Anita was delighted with it.
+
+I changed my shirt while I was upstairs before I did anything else and
+then I combed my hair. Besides three fresh towels, my best bathrobe and
+a pair of slippers, I also unearthed a bottle of rare brandy which I
+had set aside for some state occasion. I have never been an habitual
+drinker of hard liquor, being partial to beer and light wines; but I
+thought a glass or two of brandy might do her good after her cold swim.
+Then too I was hoping that the spirit might loosen her tongue and put
+us on more intimate terms ... make us friends.
+
+This accident of Fate, I realized only too well, could never happen
+again. Therefore I was determined to make good use of the opportunity
+and not sit there like a ninny, uttering asinine generalizations and
+getting nowhere. I knew that I must make that night the key which some
+day would open the door of her heart to me.
+
+I hurried back to the kitchen. Anita had the stove going full blast
+and already it was comfortably warm. She thanked me for the towels and
+without further ado, fell to rubbing herself vigorously. As she removed
+her rubber cap (which I at once recognized as part of my merchandise)
+her lovely yellow hair cascaded down her neck and shoulders. I had
+never seen her this way before and she looked so unspeakably beautiful
+with her hair unbound that I could not withhold an exclamation of
+delight. The urge was strong in me to cast aside all restraint, to take
+her in my arms; but she was my guest, at the moment helpless, so I
+refrained. Besides, the inhibitions of civilization are hard to break
+through. Seldom in my life had I given way to impulse. At the moment,
+however, I had to summon the full force of my restraint.
+
+She flashed me a quick glance and for a moment I thought she would be
+angry. I cursed myself silently for a fool. But, instead she laughed
+and said: "Turn your back. I want to get out of this wet suit."
+
+"Wait," I cried. "I'll go, if you like."
+
+"O, don't bother. I trust you."
+
+I turned around to face the wall and heard the crisp snap of elastic
+and the rustle of heavy taffeta. It gave me a pleasant sensation, her
+saying that she trusted me. It proved that she considered me something
+more than a chance acquaintance. There was also a breath-taking joy in
+the knowledge that we were in the same room together while she engaged
+in the intimate task of drying her naked body. My honorable intentions
+were somewhat frayed and stretched to the breaking-point. For this
+reason my voice sounded somewhat high and excited as I spoke to the
+wall, striving to appear casual and completely at ease. "I'm afraid I
+haven't much to offer you in the way of refreshment," I said, "except
+that brandy on the table or some tea. I never drink coffee."
+
+"Did you say brandy? Lead me to it! You can turn around now."
+
+As I obeyed, I started to say, "It's not very good brandy." I never
+finished the sentence. That first glimpse of her in my bathrobe--I'll
+never be able to forget. The robe was dark blue, matching her exquisite
+eyes; and her hair, tumbling down it.... But I have resolved not to go
+into raptures. I am sure that she noticed my appreciative stare for all
+the time we sipped away at our bandy I felt her eyes on me.
+
+Thirty minutes passed. "Perhaps you're hungry?" I suggested.
+
+"Famished! I could eat a horse."
+
+"Well, I haven't any horse," I told her, "but if you like...."
+
+Later, over bacon and scrambled eggs which she had insisted that she
+prepare herself, I summoned up enough courage to say: "But you haven't
+told me how you happened to be swimming so late at night. The water was
+certainly too cold for you to have enjoyed it."
+
+A slight shadow flitted across her face. "I always go swimming when I'm
+angry. That's the only way I can get it out of my system. Cold water
+does wonders to my awful disposition!" She tried to laugh convincingly.
+Of course she did not suspect that I knew what was wrong. And I never
+told her that I had heard she had quarreled with Doctor Carpenter.
+
+"I don't believe it!"
+
+She looked up at me with a frown. "What? That I go swimming every time
+I get a grouch on?"
+
+"No. That you've got an awful disposition."
+
+She seemed pleased at that. "Oh, you don't know me yet!"
+
+My heart thrilled at the "yet."
+
+"My misfortune," I returned, feeling that I was talking like some
+hackneyed, if gallant, character in a cheap novel. "But how do you
+manage in winter?"
+
+"Oh, I don't, really. You see I'm from the South where you can get
+angry as often as you like without catching pneumonia or bunking your
+head on a cake of ice."
+
+That got us onto the subject of her past life. I found out that she
+came from Florida--Palatka--and had come North after her father died.
+"But you don't sound like a Southerner," I said. "I haven't noticed
+the slightest trace of an accent."
+
+"Why should I have?" she retorted. "My dad was an English teacher in
+the Palatka school. What do you think? Only Yankees can speak the
+King's English?"
+
+Lest the Civil War break forth anew, I changed the subject.
+
+Another hour flew by. I scarcely realized the passage of time. By
+virtue of the four fingers of brandy I had consumed, I had grown more
+bold and I was commencing to call her by her first name. She, sadly,
+did not reciprocate. I remained, as far as she was concerned, nameless.
+But this was better than being addressed as "Mr. Thatcher."
+
+We had discussed at some length the matter of her getting back to Mrs.
+Michaelson's and had arrived at the decision that she had much better
+wait until morning. I owned no car and she could not possibly walk that
+long distance through the streets clad only in bathing costume and
+wearing my slippers. Furthermore, it would not be right to awaken Mrs.
+Michaelson at this ungodly hour of the morning and ask her to wrap up
+one of Anita's dresses. Therefore, it had been agreed that we'd sit up
+the few remaining hours until daylight, at which time I would pay a
+call on Mrs. M.
+
+To my way of thinking, Anita proved herself to be a very good sport in
+her predicament. Should anyone find out that she had been in my house
+the entire night, clad only in my bathrobe, a dreadful scandal was
+sure to follow, and her name, as far as Ithaca was concerned, would
+be ruined. Nevertheless, Anita maintained a sublime indifference to
+this possibility ... and even a reckless disregard for the accepted
+conventions. I must admit that this rather surprised me. I had not
+thought of Anita as daring.
+
+I remarked that I was spiritually drunk that evening; I am loathe to
+admit that that was not all. I also become quite drunk with brandy
+and, I am afraid, so did Anita. As I have explained earlier, I am
+not accustomed to hard liquors and, in congenially keeping up with
+my pretty guest, I soon felt my tongue thicken and my head begin to
+spin. Although my faculties dulled with the alcohol, they did not take
+leave of me completely and I can remember the events which took place
+between the time Anita splashed into my life and the moment I first
+took her into my arms. However, if some of the moments seem vague in
+description, you may put it down as a combination of too much drink and
+too many years having elapsed since. But to me, this night stands out
+with absolute clarity. It was the happiest night in my entire life.
+
+Now nobody respects a drunken woman. Hence, I had better remind you
+that Anita had every reason to try to drown her sorrows that night.
+Besides, she did not look or act drunk ... except that she cried
+continually. But her face did not grow red and ugly, and this is
+funny because I have since witnessed many of Anita's tantrums and she
+certainly erases her good looks with her tears.
+
+"I hate him! Oh, I hate him!" she kept muttering between racking sobs.
+
+I tried to comfort her as best I could but my soothing words seemed
+to pass unnoticed. As she babbled on, I found myself unconsciously
+hanging on her words. I wished to plumb her depths, learn her true
+feelings. While I recognized that she was not herself and might easily
+say something she would later regret, I was afforded the delicious
+sensation of hearing her denounce Leo Carpenter. Her very vehemence as
+she spoke his name began to infect me. I commenced to hate him, too.
+
+Previously I had regarded his attentions to Anita only with jealousy
+and distaste; and except for that day in the store when he had tried to
+induce me to sell him a contraceptive, I harbored no great hatred for
+the man. After all, he had never been anything but friendly to me and,
+I daresay, had he suspected how I felt about Anita, he would not have
+come into _my_ store on such an errand.
+
+Anita's wrath seemed genuine enough and I had no suspicions but that
+she really despised the man. Had I not been so happy that her love
+for him had died, I think I would have been a little alarmed at her
+capacity for enmity.
+
+After her rage had exhausted her and had subsided into dry,
+body-racking sobs, she leaned forward on the kitchen table with her
+head buried in her arms. Before her, like some grisly tombstone, stood
+the empty brandy bottle. She had wrapped the bathrobe so tightly around
+her body that every line of her form was clearly defined. Through the
+thin material her breasts showed. They quivered an accompaniment to her
+choking convulsions.
+
+I moved over to her and stood behind her, stroking her head soothingly
+as though she were a little child. I put an arm around her shaking
+shoulders and whispered that it was all right, Carpenter was gone and
+she would never have to worry about him again. My words, this time,
+took effect. But not in the way I intended. She began to feel sorry
+for herself. Wave after wave of self-pity swept over her until she was
+repeating that old, familiar masterpiece of spoiled children: "Nobody
+loves me!"
+
+I wanted to do something--I don't quite know what--to reassure
+her. I wanted to pour out my love for her all at once and take the
+consequences. But ... no words came and I found that I couldn't
+galvanize myself into any action. Finally, I managed to sink to my
+knees beside her chair and raised her head by tugging at her shoulders.
+The bathrobe came loose, much to my dismay, and I caught a glimpse of
+one curved thigh. With her face between my palms, I looked into her wet
+eyes and said: "You're wrong, Anita. Somebody does love you."
+
+I don't think that she heard me. If she did, she gave no sign. She
+continued to sob with her head against my chest and I pressed my lips
+to her forehead, her cheek and then at last I kissed her mouth.
+
+It may appear disgusting that I should make love to a drunken woman,
+too befuddled with alcohol to fully realize what was being done to her.
+But remember that I was drunk myself. Even with this excuse, I am quite
+ashamed to confess that my marriage was born in such a fashion. You can
+readily understand why I have kept it a secret until now.
+
+I vaguely recall lifting her in my arms and carrying her up the narrow
+winding stairs to my bedroom. And she must have been nude, for the
+next morning I came across my bathrobe lying on the kitchen floor.
+
+Not wishing to delve into intimate details which normally should be
+discussed only between the parties concerned, it would definitely be
+misleading if I neglected to mention that when we eventually sobered
+up, Anita did not appear so very horrified upon finding herself in bed
+with me. On the contrary, she seemed to accept it as a matter of course
+and, had I had any regrets for my actions before she became sober, they
+swiftly took wing at her warm responses to my wooing.
+
+I became thoroughly convinced that she had fallen in love with me.
+Moreover, if her mind was still filled with resentment because of
+Doctor Carpenter's desertion, at least she did not mention his name
+again.
+
+When I returned to the house before ten that day with a bundle of
+her clothes, Anita was still in bed and sleeping soundly. The covers
+were tucked tightly under her chin but one arm, round and very white,
+dangled over the side. I stood and looked at her for a long time,
+scarcely breathing. I could not believe that such a thing had come to
+pass, that I, Peter Thatcher, had possessed the one woman in all the
+world.
+
+It was my plan not to awaken her. Since she no longer was employed
+at the Knit Shoppe, there was no point in getting her up. But as I
+deposited her clothes at the foot of the bed and turned to tiptoe out,
+she called to me.
+
+"What time is it?"
+
+I whirled around and noticed that while she was certainly wide awake,
+she was keeping her eyes tightly shut. I suppose that she did this out
+of embarrassment.
+
+"Ten o'clock, Anita," I stammered. When she said nothing further, I
+went on, "Is ... is there anything I can get you? Some ... some tea?
+There's no coffee in the house."
+
+"No thanks. Nothing at all."
+
+"I've brought your clothes."
+
+"Thanks. I'll get up in a minute."
+
+"Oh, there's no great rush," I hurried on to say, lest she think that I
+wanted her to vacate the premises which, you may be sure, was not my
+wish. "Stay as long as you like. I.... It's nice having you here."
+
+"Thanks."
+
+I did not get to the store before half past ten that morning and
+furthermore I didn't care. The place did not seem a bit attractive
+to me and I did something that day that I had never thought of doing
+before. I watched the clock. My errand-boy, a colored chap by the name
+of Jiggs, remarked on my obviously distracted manner. "Boss," he said,
+"you sure look like somethin' shot at and missed, you do. Yes, sir!"
+
+At five o'clock Anita made an appearance. I had half expected that she
+would come around to the store. I couldn't think of any reason why
+she should but.... Fortunately there were no customers present and I
+immediately dispatched Jiggs on some needless errand so that we might
+have privacy while I proposed to her.
+
+"Anita," I said after several false starts, "I want you to be my wife."
+
+I remember that she looked rather haggard and worn. There were faint
+lines around her lovely eyes. I waited breathlessly for her to give me
+her answer.
+
+"Why not?" she sighed. And while the tone she employed struck me at the
+time as being somewhat unenthusiastic for one who was in love, I put it
+down as just another sign that she had spent an enervating night.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+We were married quietly on July 4th. I, myself, would have selected
+another day but she would have none of it. "I planned on getting
+married on the Fourth and the Fourth it shall be." Seeing how set she
+was in this whim, I raised no objection although I did not like the
+feeling that I was stepping into someone else's shoes. All through the
+short ceremony I half expected the name Leo to slip from the Justice's
+tongue instead of my own.
+
+I am not at all a superstitious person. Black cats and ladders and the
+numeral 13 mean nothing to me. But in retrospect, marrying Anita on the
+Fourth with firecrackers exploding out of doors and _Times_ headlines
+reading: VICTORY FOR OUR NAVY IN 2 BATTLES, U-BOATS TWICE ATTACKED OUR
+TRANSPORTS, OUR WARSHIPS SANK ONE, PERHAPS MORE, seems quite in keeping
+with the turbulent events that ruined both our lives.
+
+I can recite the contents of that newspaper, _The Times_ of July 4,
+1917, almost completely. You see, some practical joker phoned in the
+news of our wedding, making it sound so important that it was printed
+on the Society page. Mr. and Mrs. Peter Thatcher were not really "news"
+then. Now they are--only not Society news. Murderers and their victims
+rate much more space. Anyway, on July 4th President and Mrs. Wilson
+went yachting as far as the mouth of the Potomac, Herbert Hoover warned
+the public through the medium of the press that "America Must Save to
+Win War," Gimbels advertised a Clearance Sale of ladies' parasols, and
+I married Anita.
+
+No sooner had the ceremony ended, it seemed to me that Anita began to
+make changes. I suppose all brides do that. I guess they like to have
+some physical evidence about that by the token of marriage they are
+effecting a radical metamorphosis not only in their husbands' lives but
+in his effects as well. For several days following Anita's moving into
+the house I stumbled over pieces of furniture which she had rearranged
+and I felt very strange sleeping in what had always been my mother's
+bedroom. After her death I had never thought of bunking there but had
+kept my familiar little room at the head of the winding stairs.
+
+"Don't you think that this table would look better over by that
+window?" she asked.
+
+"Oh, yes, Anita," I would reply.
+
+"No.... I guess not. I'll try it in that corner."
+
+"It looks fine there, Anita."
+
+"Well, it will do for now."
+
+On one or two occasions I kissed her while we were shifting the
+furniture back and forth. Despite the dustcloth wound around her head,
+the old house-dress and a pair of my slippers which were ludicrously
+large on her feet, she looked very beautiful and I couldn't resist
+taking her into my arms. However, when I did my best to maneuver her
+onto the couch, she would push me away gently. "Oh, please, Peter!
+We're so busy and I'm so tired."
+
+I think that only a few weeks elapsed between the day we got married
+and the day I rented the vacant bakery shop adjacent to my store. I had
+made up my mind to celebrate my good fortune by enlarging the business.
+Soon the workmen were at work, tearing down the thick wall separating
+the two shops and while this was going on I could not conduct business.
+So it was decided that Anita and I would take a belated honeymoon. I
+suggested Montreal but Anita had ideas of her own.
+
+"I want to spend all the time we can allow ourselves right in New
+York City. We can go to the theatre every night and eat in the fine
+restaurants and shop and...." She rambled on and on, becoming more
+enthusiastic. When I reminded her that New York in summer was scarcely
+the spot one would select for a vacation, she refused to listen.
+
+Luckily my finances were in good shape so we stopped at the Waldorf.
+For two weeks we were miserable. The pavement and the walls of the
+high buildings surrounding us were unbelievably hot that summer and
+it seemed to me that we were slowly being baked in some great oven.
+Nevertheless, Anita did not complain and tried to pretend to me that
+she was enjoying herself.
+
+Every night found us in some stuffy theatre or cafe. We went to the
+Ziegfeld Follies; we sat through "Hitchy-Koo," gasping for a breath of
+air while Raymond Hitchcock, Grace LaRue, Leon Errol and Irene Bordoni
+panted their speeches; but after a matinee of "The Thirteenth Chair,"
+when Anita expressed the desire to inspect the new William Desmond
+film--"The Paws of the Bear" I think--I emphatically refused. She
+sulked all evening.
+
+The trip itself would be unimportant had it not marked the birth of
+Anita's yearning to live in New York. She did not suggest that we move
+there--in so many words--but I was soon to note her waning interest in
+the alterations I was planning to make in the store. While I was down
+in the city, I ordered a very fine composition-marble soda fountain and
+I was justly proud of my purchase. However, when I insisted that Anita
+accompany me to the showroom to view it, she was totally lacking in
+enthusiasm.
+
+"It's right down on Fourth Avenue, darling. We can hop a cab and be
+there in five minutes."
+
+"I'll see it when it's up in Ithaca, Peter."
+
+Upon our return home, I lost no time in getting to the store for I
+wanted to see what progress had been made in my absence. It was still
+my dream some day to own a very large place--an elaborate place with a
+long fountain and red-leather stools and a well-stocked drug department
+with several clerks in white coats to wait upon customers.
+
+After a cursory inspection, I started home again. Anita had warned me
+about being late for supper and I had lingered quite a while with Doc
+Turnbull whom I had chanced to encounter. I hurried along down State
+Street at a good clip.
+
+It was already growing dark as I passed the railroad station. The
+lighted windows of a halted Pullman stretched like a string of yellow
+beads far down the track. The train was preparing to creep out,
+bound west; its engine snorted at ever decreasing intervals. The few
+passengers who had alighted passed close to me, sweating beneath their
+burdens of satchels and valises. They were all headed in the direction
+from which I had come.
+
+"Travel," I chuckled to myself, "is not all it's cracked up to be.
+Moving all the time, packing and unpacking, sleeping in cramped
+quarters, trying to keep the dust out of your eyes and ears.... They
+can have it. I'll stay here."
+
+One of the passengers looked very familiar and as he approached me
+he saluted me with a cheerful wave of his hand. I squinted in his
+direction.
+
+It was Leo Carpenter.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+You can imagine what conflicting emotions took possession of me as I
+continued toward home. Since my marriage I had not thought of him, so
+busy was I in accustoming myself to a wedded state. Leo was something
+out of the past--a smoked cigarette, a match which had flared for a
+minute and then been extinguished. And while Anita, of course, had not
+forgotten his existence, I was certain that she had dismissed him from
+her thoughts. That she no longer cared for him, she had proven to me by
+the solemn act of marriage.
+
+Yet, because we lived in a small community, we would have to rub elbows
+with him often. It was a delicate situation and I was at a loss to know
+the proper attitude to adopt. That Leo and Anita had been engaged was
+common gossip; if we avoided contact with him it would seem as though
+we were afraid of him. On the other hand, if we accepted him as a
+friend and allowed him to call at our home, there might be malicious
+rumors circulated that he still loved her and intended, if he could, to
+win her away from me.
+
+Naturally I expected Anita to bear him a grudge and refuse to have
+anything to do with him, but when I informed her that I had seen him,
+she evinced no anger. Indeed she gave no sign that it mattered one way
+or the other except that her hand shook a little as she cut me another
+helping of pie. She offered no comments. Neither did I ask her for
+any. Anita, I reasoned, would be capable of deciding what course to
+pursue. As for myself, comfortably assured of my wife's devotion, it
+did not matter how we treated Carpenter.
+
+There were two reasons, though, why I wished we could be friends with
+him. First of all, I felt sorry for the fellow. He had lost what I had
+won. Then, too, there was the store. Doctor Carpenter was a very good
+customer. Like old Doc Turnbull, he brought me all his prescription
+work. That trade alone netted me five hundred dollars a year and, in
+the event that Anita decided to feud, he would be forced to trade at
+Cavender's.
+
+The evening after his arrival he came into the place. I could see by
+his face that the news had reached him. He looked pale and tensely
+drawn and not at all the dapper man-about-town. Of course our marriage
+might not have been the cause of it all. He was in mourning clothes. I
+remembered about his father being ill.
+
+He came straight to the prescription counter with his hand
+outstretched. "Congratulations, Pete," he said quietly. "I wish you
+all the luck in the world. I know you'll make her happy."
+
+I hardly expected that he would be such a good sport about it. In his
+place I knew that I would have been absolutely miserable. But then
+I remembered that he had never loved her--or so it had struck me.
+"Thanks, doctor. You bet I will. I suppose it was something of a shock
+to you, eh? So sudden and all that!"
+
+"Yes. But that's the way things happen, you know. Suddenly."
+
+I looked at his black suit. "I'm sorry to hear that your...."
+
+He interrupted me before I could get any farther. I could see that he
+wanted to change the subject. "Hmm. Store looks nice, Pete. But what
+are you going to put in that big empty place?" He indicated the long,
+bare strip where I intended to install my fountain when it arrived.
+
+"Secret, Doctor Carpenter. Come in next week and see for yourself."
+
+But he never did see it. Within a week, Carpenter closed up his big
+house on the Heights, dismissed all the servants, recommended Doc
+Turnbull to many of his patients, and enlisted in the army. Although
+I enlisted shortly after, I never saw him again until a few weeks
+ago--September 9, 1937 to be precise--in his handsome New York City
+residence.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I bluntly admit that I am cowardly by nature; yet, despite this, I
+was not drafted into the army. I volunteered. This is not a boast but
+a statement of fact which, I presume, sounds paradoxical. But I have
+met many like myself at the front who, listening to martial music and
+the stirring speeches of wartime orators, could not resist rallying to
+the colors. During many a night in muddy French dug-outs I wondered at
+this rash act of mine. Volunteering had been so unlike me. At length it
+dawned on me that I had done it to impress Anita.
+
+This seems to me to be the most logical reason because I have always
+tried to impress her. I would never have dreamed of confessing my
+timidity to her and, if she were still alive, I would not be confessing
+it here. I remember that whenever a situation arose which required
+firm handling, in her presence I would handle it firmly--instead of the
+meek attitude I took when there were no witnesses. I am referring now
+to the incident of the iceman, shortly after we were married. The man
+had gotten into an argument with Anita over a late delivery. The food
+in our ice-chest had spoiled and the tongue-lashing the man received
+provoked him. He began to shout back at her insolently. I forced myself
+to step in and ordered the fellow from the house. Curiously enough, he
+obeyed. As he stood hesitantly in the open door, I shouted: "Get out
+of here and don't come back!" After he had closed the door, I added
+ferociously for Anita's benefit: "... or I'll dust off the furniture
+with you, you worm!"
+
+All the eligible men in Ithaca were enlisting. Even students from up on
+the hill and married men who were exempt. Although in my heart I knew
+that I would make a poor soldier--being much more valuable at home,
+keeping people fit--I was afraid that my reticence would be noticed.
+I took to circling an entire block to avoid passing the enlistment
+office on Seneca Street where a pretty town girl was drumming up
+recruits. However, it did not matter so much what other people thought
+of me, as long as Anita did not feel ashamed.
+
+One day when I came home from work I thought I'd test her. I figured
+that her face would give her away if she really thought me a coward. I
+mentioned the fact that I contemplated joining up.
+
+She did not throw her arms around my neck and beg me not to go as the
+wives in plays did (and as I had hoped _she_ would do). She merely
+nodded her approval and said: "Good idea, Peter. Uncle Sam needs
+everyone. I've been thinking of joining the Red Cross. And don't worry
+about the store," she went on quickly, "because that lame Murphy boy
+has just graduated as a pharmacist. He can look after things until you
+get back. The war can't last much longer now that we're in it."
+
+I saw then that there was no getting out of it. I silently cursed
+myself for having left myself wide open. "But how do you know that Tom
+Murphy...?"
+
+"Oh, don't worry, will you? He said he'd be only too glad to...." She
+stopped in embarrassment. As my eyebrows went up in surprise, she
+rushed on, "Oh, I knew you'd want to enlist sooner or later. So I
+thought I'd sound him out before Ray Cavender thought of it."
+
+The following day as I stood in line before the recruiting office she
+waited to one side. I remember that she was smiling--not broadly, but
+only with the corners of her mouth--as though something amused her. I
+think that she might have suspected my meek spirit and half expected
+that I would make a break and run for it before it was too late! Of
+course, I did no such thing; although I don't mind admitting that I
+would have liked to have done so--and probably would have, had I not
+foreseen the disgrace resulting from such an act.
+
+So I signed the enlistment papers with a great show of unconcern,
+easily passed the physical examination, and rejoined Anita at the curb.
+As we walked down Seneca toward North Albany where young Murphy lived,
+my chest swelled with pride and my knees felt curiously weak.
+
+"Well, Peter," smiled Anita, "you're in the army now."
+
+"Yes," I replied.
+
+A few days later I received orders assigning me to Camp Mills, out on
+Long Island, for training. I was to leave immediately. At the station
+many of the men were hoping that their wives would not cry. Something
+told me that Anita would not; but I was not so sure about myself....
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Anyway, late 1917 found me in France, a very bewildered apothecary
+armed with a rifle in place of the familiar pestle. And a more peculiar
+soldier never buttoned an ill-fitting uniform blouse over a quaking
+heart. My quiet garden and the lake now were replaced by a filthy
+trench, a sea of mud, tangled wire and the grim, ploughed furrows of
+war.
+
+I will not bore you by going into a long dissertation on the causes,
+results and horrors of international strife. More capable persons
+have tried it before me to no avail. To the young, the exempt or the
+uninitiated, war seems an adventure, a thrilling episode during which
+one has the rare opportunity of becoming a hero. If that is so, all I
+can say is that it was a thrill and an adventure I would prefer not
+having again. And I am certainly not alone in this.
+
+Oh, yes, I can understand the quickening of the pulse whenever a
+flag goes by and how handsome the boys look in their khaki and steel
+helmets. But it is easy to feel heroic at home, far from the awful
+front, surrounded by friends and pretty girls. I think that if recruits
+were allowed one day of fighting before finally electing to join the
+army, no country would be able to raise troops.
+
+But this is not a war story; it is a confession, if you wish to call
+it that, of what led me to commit the crime of which I am supposed
+to be guilty, and the war plays no part in it with the exception of
+two incidents. One of them is the shell-shock I suffered; the other I
+relate here.
+
+In my company were three men to whom I became very much attached. Two
+of them--Carter and Mullins--were privates like myself. The third was
+a huge fellow by the name of Wilkinson, my platoon sergeant. War and
+the ever-present threat of death can forge close friendships, even
+among people from different walks of life; but, I maintain, pinochle
+can forge closer ones. We played through more than seven months of
+front-line fire--the four of us--and it helped. At first I could not
+keep my mind on the cards with the low rumble of the big guns and the
+occasional screams of the German "minnies" in my ears; but when I saw
+how unperturbed the others seemed, I felt ashamed to flinch and soon I
+became almost as hardened to sounds as they were.
+
+Strange how four men can get together and become friends with no
+more in common than a ragged deck of cards! Carter, in peace time,
+was a shoe salesman; Mullins, a landscape gardener; and Wilkinson, a
+policeman on the Yonkers force. Only infrequently did they mention
+their professions. Carter once delivered a long and obscene monologue
+on the subject of his regulation shoes. "I think they put hobnails on
+the inside, too!" he grumbled. Mullins once or twice commented briefly
+on the ravished landscape; and Sergeant Wilkinson, or "Sarge" as we
+called him, never felt at home with a Springfield. At those times when
+we had to mount the firing-step, he would pop away with his treasured
+police revolver. I would stand beside him, firing round after round,
+hoping that I was not hitting anyone.
+
+For war or no war, the world safe or unsafe for democracy, I could
+not bring myself to want to kill anybody. Pointing a gun at a person
+and pressing the trigger was still murder to my way of thinking. The
+knowledge that I was legally entitled to do it did not seem to make the
+slightest particle of difference. I did not hate anyone. Why should I
+kill?
+
+Perhaps this was not a very patriotic attitude to take. Maybe I should
+have taken a certain pride in killing off my country's enemies. But I
+couldn't help feeling that the enemy ranks contained many young men
+like myself into whose unwilling hands guns had been thrust. My own
+life, up until the war broke out, had been spent in trying to relieve
+pain, not to inflict it. But when I broached this subject, the Sarge
+sniffed. "Either you fill their bellies with lead or they fill yours.
+Take your pick." I solved the problem by keeping carefully out of the
+line of fire whenever possible and by trying to miss each shot it was
+my military duty to fire.
+
+One night in October, a second lieutenant came into our dug-out and
+asked us to volunteer for a wire-cutting detail. "If you don't make too
+much noise, there shouldn't be any trouble. The Boche are in Exermont,
+drinking schnapps and eating pigs' knuckles and sauerkraut. I haven't
+the foggiest notion why this wire must be cut unless we're going to
+attack ... but orders are orders."
+
+The Sarge nodded affably and asked, "Is it all right with you guys?"
+
+Carter reached for his shoes without a word. Mullins, in disgust, threw
+his cards face-up on the table. "You _would_ have to come in now and
+bust up the first decent hand I've had in a month!" he grunted to the
+lieutenant.
+
+I hesitated a second. Venturing out into noman's-land was something
+I was not particularly anxious to do. But I felt four sets of eyes
+turn my way. I tried my best to appear unafraid of the task which, I
+knew very well, was within my province to refuse. "Oh, hell," I said
+flippantly but with trembling lips, I'm afraid. "Why not? I could use a
+breath of air."
+
+A shallow attempt at bravado but no one seemed to notice.
+
+A few minutes later the four of us squirmed over the trench parapet and
+wiggled toward the wire entanglements. Luckily it was very dark and the
+enemy opposite us were firing Very lights only once in a great while.
+Notwithstanding, I was terribly frightened; so much so, that when I
+caught my wrap-arounds on a strand of wire, I lost my head and yanked
+them free with a loud ripping noise. Carter, Mullins and the Sarge
+flung themselves face-downward on the soggy ground and lay still. I
+quickly followed suit and heard Wilkinson cursing me roundly under his
+breath. But when nothing happened, we resumed our cautious crawling.
+My heart was pounding so hard against my chest that I felt certain it
+could be heard by anyone within a mile of us.
+
+When at length we reached the wire we had been instructed to cut, the
+four of us went into a whispered conference on our bellies. "You go off
+to the right, Thatcher," the Sarge muttered between his teeth, "and get
+into a shell-hole. Keep your eye peeled. For Chris' sake don't go to
+sleep. The Heinies may have a party out, too. Mullins, you mosey over
+to that stump on the left. Carter and I will tackle the wire."
+
+I was very glad to crawl into that shell-hole, believe me; and while
+I didn't like the idea of being separated from the others, I was
+infinitely grateful that I would be out of danger if shooting began.
+However, no sooner did I flatten myself at the muddy bottom of the hole
+when I felt something rub against my knee. Squinting into the inky
+darkness, I drew my trench-knife, believing that I might have to kill a
+rat. At that moment someone decided to fire up a light.
+
+I was lying beside a German private!
+
+He seemed as surprised as I was. We gaped open-mouthed at one another's
+uniforms. Terror froze the blood in my veins for an instant; then
+it galvanized me into action. I suddenly became conscious of what I
+held in my hand and, as he muttered something guttural, I drove the
+trench-knife deep into his neck.
+
+When you took up this book you expected a confession. Well, now you've
+got one. That deed, in my own estimation, was a murder. You disagree?
+It was self-defense? It really wasn't anything of the kind. He had
+no weapon in his hand; neither did he show any sign that he meant to
+attack me. But you still think I was right in killing him? I'm sorry,
+but I don't understand such reasoning. If only someone would explain it
+to me! Killing Anita who deserved to die--that was a crime? Killing a
+boy whose only fault was having been born in Germany--that was not?
+
+Twenty years have passed since that awful night and this outrageous
+misinterpretation of justice still remains to plague my logic. I have
+asked everyone--priests, convicts, judges, cops--but no one seems to
+know. Well, never mind.
+
+Ten short minutes seemed an eternity. I lay beside the man I had
+killed, waiting for some signal from the Sarge. The enemy were firing
+many more Verys now and that, I suppose, was the reason for the delay.
+I tried to keep my eyes off the corpse but it was a difficult feat in
+that small area. In my hand I still clutched the knife and, as light
+after light went up, I stared horrified at the sticky blood that
+covered my hand up to the wrist. I tried to wipe it off on my pants.
+
+My three comrades found me that way. The Sarge looked down at the body
+and then patted me on the shoulder. "Nice work," he said in a whisper.
+"You got him in the right place, kid. There was a Fritz party out
+tonight. This guy must've been a look-out. We saw 'em in time. If this
+baby had opened his yap, we'd all of us be pushin' up the daisies now."
+Then he callously began to search the dead man's pockets. "Got to look
+for maps and stuff," he explained. "Of course, he ain't carryin' any.
+He's only a buck from the rear rank. But he might have a stogie on him
+or a pack of butts."
+
+The next morning while I was shaving, I remembered that I had taken
+a life. I peered at my reflection in the steel mirror, wondering how
+much the deed had changed me. I knew that I had changed inside ... but
+outside I looked the same.
+
+On the night of October 4, 1918 we made our bid for Exermont. I should
+say, _they_ made _their_ bid; for I deserted.
+
+Deserted in the face of the enemy. Say it. Go ahead, I don't care. I
+had had enough of the war. But before you condemn me, imagine what
+might have happened if everybody had followed my example. There would
+have been no more war. There would have been nothing left to shoot at.
+
+I lagged behind when we reached that ruined cemetery on the outskirts
+of Exermont village. Machine-gun bullets were kicking up all around us
+and shells were dropping, cutting off a retreat. I don't know when the
+notion struck me that we were walking toward sudden and certain death,
+but I was sure that nothing--not even a blade of grass--could escape
+that heavy rain of lead. Taking advantage of the fact that it was dark
+and there was a lot of confusion, I ducked into a convenient shell-hole
+and allowed what was left of my company to go on without me.
+
+The last thing I can remember before I came to my senses in the little
+French hospital was the ever-increasing whine of some great shell. A
+five-point-nine. I could identify it by its sound. As it came down
+upon me, making my ears vibrate, I tried to press my body into the wet
+earth. My fingers frantically dug into the ground; my eyes filled with
+mud; my teeth clenched until they hurt; and my bowels opened....
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Every soldier falls in love with his nurse. I, not much of a military
+man anyway, did not. The war had not caused me to forget Anita and,
+despite her very infrequent letters, my thoughts were ever full of her.
+Yet, somehow, the picture was blurred, pleasurably blurred if you wish,
+the imperfections blotted out. Moments dwelt on in memory, moments
+very often of the flesh; memories of moments only to be whispered
+when we were alone together. Desire is an insidious parasite gnawing
+at one's body. And so, paradoxically enough, although it was Anita who
+kept me away from women who could be had for the taking, women like
+the pockmarked roads of France over which an army marched, it was also
+Anita who made me glaringly conscious of a need for women. Celibacy is
+the pathway to depraved thoughts, even as war is the pathway to power
+of depraved minds. The very fact that Anita wrote so seldom made me
+want her more. Man usually kills the thing he loves, and cherishes that
+which ultimately destroys him. In the trenches, with death ever near
+like a white bird flying, it was not so hard to hold one's emotions in
+check. So frantically were we endeavoring to cling to life, we wooed
+and clung to her as though she were our mistress. Then, too, we could
+always look forward to being relieved, new troops to supplant us in
+this war that was merely a prelude to all other wars, and then--a few
+days in Paris. Actually, the fact that few of us ever got to Paris was
+of little importance. Paris was a symbol. It represented any woman's
+arms.
+
+Lest you suspect otherwise and visualize my nurse as some homely
+harridan, I would like to make it clear that Mademoiselle Monet was a
+very attractive person, one with whom many a man might fall in love.
+And pray do not think that I was viewing her with the astigmatic eyes
+of war which distorted everything. My nurse was truly beautiful.
+
+Furthermore, Gilberte Monet was in love with me.
+
+How this happened, I cannot explain. There have been many jokes
+made about French girls. There is the story that they considered
+it a patriotic duty to sleep with each and every one of the Allied
+troops from the brigadier generals right on down the line. Gilberte
+was not one of those and her love for me in no way hinged upon my
+uniform. Well, whatever her reason for loving me, I only know that
+when I eventually became aware that I was in a long, white ward, a
+friendly-looking dark-eyed girl in nurse's garb was bending over the
+bed and whispering some strange, incomprehensible syllables which she
+later told me meant: "So you are awake at last, my darling."
+
+Her voice was gentle, soothing like the voice of a mother speaking
+softly to her frightened little boy who lay hurt and shivering on his
+bed, shrinking from imagined horrors. And I was that boy--but the
+horrors were ghastly realities. No war has ever been won, not even by
+the conquerors; and how can one describe that gray, terror-splashed
+tumult that rages in the frontiers of the mind; that frontier where
+reason locks with reality? Beyond the trenches lies a region like unto
+the world in the beginning, without form and void. This I know, for I
+have been there.
+
+Yes, Gilberte Monet loved me and it was good to be loved; especially
+good while I lay broken mentally and physically, afraid to die, yet
+more afraid to live in a world gone mad.
+
+You may laugh if you like. I wouldn't blame you at all. It does seem
+ludicrous that I, a timid, small-town druggist could so play havoc with
+a woman's heart. I am certainly no Don Juan.
+
+I was the only American in the hospital and I must have been there
+quite a long time because none of the other patients were there when I
+was brought in. The first thing I learned was that the Armistice had
+been signed and that the war was at an end. You may be sure I rejoiced.
+But the news that my entire company had been wiped out at Exermont
+greatly disheartened me.
+
+Although I was out of danger of death, my mind was periodically unsound
+and my memory as well. Sometimes for hours I would forget who I was, in
+which ward I belonged and the name of my nurse. During those periods
+I would suffer indescribable mental anguish until Nurse Monet came to
+claim me. I would always recognize her and in a minute everything would
+become clear again. I took to wheeling my chair after her wherever she
+went. She did not seem to mind.
+
+Many evenings the nurse and I would be in the hospital garden. It was
+very lovely there with the green lawn and the cultivated flower beds
+and the stone fountain which played incessantly. She would sit beside
+my wheel-chair and coax me to sing to her. My nasal interpretations of
+"K-K-K-Katy" and "Over There" sent her into fits of laughter and she
+never seemed to tire of them. I would laugh with her until my shrapnel
+wounds began to hurt. To this day, whenever I undress for bed and
+notice the scars on my left leg and thigh, I think of the evenings in
+the garden with Gilberte Monet.
+
+One evening in particular would be much better forgotten; and I would
+not mention it all were it not for my firm resolution to be frank. It
+happened so naturally and so sweetly that I can scarcely believe it was
+an adultery. Yet.... It will be hard to describe. I can only tell you
+what we did--and that may sound very ordinary--but what we did and what
+that night did to me is the important issue. That half-hour has since
+served as a standard by which I weigh love to ascertain its value.
+Gilberte's love was real, not feigned. It could, and did, weather
+anything--even her realization that I could not reciprocate.
+
+Yes, she gave herself to me. And what is more, no one cared. Who cared
+what anyone did during those topsy-turvy years--like roulette with the
+play for human chips? The hospital staff was too preoccupied with a
+macabre puzzle to be disturbed over absurdities connected with a normal
+human function. They were attempting to put wrecks of men together
+again and, far too frequently, important pieces were missing.
+
+And the important missing part in my own case was Anita. Gilberte
+helped me to fill that gap, for which I shall be eternally grateful.
+My only regret is the night I am trying to describe. There, and there
+only, did we overstep the boundaries beyond which we should never have
+passed. If I had loved Gilberte and not been in love with another woman
+it would have been quite all right. But I never loved her and, since
+she loved me, it must have hurt her no end to discover that she was
+merely receiving the crumbs from Anita's table.
+
+However, it is too late to think about such things now. Even if we had
+known, I doubt if we could have prevented what happened. Before either
+of us realized quite what was happening, we found ourselves stretched
+full-length on a secluded strip of lawn, protected by the enveloping
+darkness. Gilberte's uniform was unfastened at the breast and my cheek
+rested on her satiny flesh. I became suffused with a warm glow and
+the intoxicating belief that nothing mattered but this one very human
+moment. I kissed her on the mouth--the first time I had ever done so.
+She responded by tightening her grip and literally melting to me. I
+removed one arm from under her and in a few seconds nothing--not a
+shred of clothing--separated us.
+
+"I love you, Gilberte," I moaned again and again.
+
+But, even at that time, while I held a woman in my arms for the first
+time in almost two years, I knew I was lying. But, somehow, that seemed
+the only proper thing to say.
+
+The greater portion of the A.E.F. sailed for home on the Leviathan and
+other ships late in March of 1919; but I was still in no condition to
+make such a long trip. I'd sit in my wheel-chair, staring off into
+space, and think about Anita--how she was, what she was doing, and
+wondering why she didn't answer my letters.
+
+It was my custom to write her each week. Gilberte provided me with
+paper and pen and ink; and later she would take the letters to post
+when she went off duty. I remember the first time I handed her a
+finished letter she glanced curiously at the name and the address.
+
+"Your mothair?" she asked in her broken English.
+
+"No," I replied, not realizing I was being cruel, "my wife." And not
+satisfied with that, I pulled out the picture of Anita I always carried
+in my breast pocket. "How do you like her, Gilberte? Isn't she lovely?"
+
+She took the picture from my hand and studied it intently. There was a
+look in her eyes like some hurt animal and instantly I was ashamed of
+myself. Knowing how the girl felt about me, I should have known better.
+
+"Vairy nize," she murmured and returned it. I saw a tell-tale sparkle
+under her lowered lids.
+
+Now please don't think for a minute that I am manufacturing this story
+out of whole cloth. I can find no explanation for her misguided
+affections. I certainly did nothing to inspire them. The only
+observation I might truthfully make is that love is mighty strange
+and ofttimes somewhat silly. But to prove that Mademoiselle Monet was
+a real person and not a figment of a distorted imagination, you have
+only to look up the transcript of my trial in Tompkins County. One of
+the prosecution's major exhibits was a letter in the French language,
+addressed to me and signed by her. I never found out what the letter
+contained until I heard it translated in open court. Yes, it was a love
+letter. I ought to know, because it helped to convict me.
+
+Gilberte showed her love for me in a way to which I could not possibly
+object. She did not try to kiss me, caress me or hug me; and pray do
+not imagine nightly assignations after the other patients in the ward
+were asleep; she was just over-kind and ever willing to go out of her
+way to please me. When she spoke of her love at all, it was quietly and
+in her own language, which I could not understand. Of course, there was
+no mistaking the meaning of her words. Behind them whispered something
+else--an international esperanto which no one could fail to have
+recognized.
+
+And if, while she administered my sponge-baths, she lingered a little
+longer than was strictly necessary, what was so wrong in that? She
+liked to fuss over me like some mother with a child. In the garden
+on some of the nights when we were alone, she'd lean her head on my
+shoulder or carry one of my hands to her breast. It was done so sweetly
+and so lacking in the frenzied sex quality that endowed many of the
+other women nurses in the hospital, that I was deeply moved. I daresay
+had I not already lost my heart to Anita ... but that's the way it was.
+
+Have I made myself clear? Except for that night during the early
+spring, there was nothing between us. And it was not Gilberte's fault
+that there happened even that. If anyone was the aggressor--it was I.
+Do not, please, get the impression that she egged me on. Her love was
+on a higher plane and sex was not paramount. I still have the feeling
+that I soiled something, strode ruthlessly across a priceless tapestry
+with muddy shoes.
+
+Now, I often regret that I didn't find out more about Nurse Monet; but
+at the time, you can understand, my mind was flooded with thoughts of
+my wife and her picture blotted out everything else or threw them out
+of perspective. As it was, I merely tolerated Gilberte. She was merely
+an audience attending a nightly eulogy of Anita. Knowing where I stand
+now, I am sorry that I paid her so little attention. I must have been
+exceedingly cruel; especially do I regret taking her. If, by some
+chance, she ever comes across this book, I hope that she will believe
+me when I say that I will always hold her memory very dear. I get a
+little comfort by telling myself that, although she was a few years
+older than myself, she was still a young woman and I, probably, was
+merely a fleeting fancy.
+
+But to continue, it was not for several months that I found out
+Gilberte was not mailing my letters to Anita. This made me very angry
+because, you remember, my company had been recorded as wiped out and
+Anita had no way of knowing that I was still alive. I found out one
+afternoon when Gilberte was shifting her quarters. The other nurses
+were lending her a hand with the heavier paraphernalia. I would have
+liked to have helped her myself, because I was very fond of Gilberte,
+but I was permitted only to sit in my wheel-chair out in the corridor
+and watch the proceedings.
+
+The lid of her trunk was open as they staggered out into the hall with
+it. The letters were in the tray--all of them--tied neatly into a
+packet. At first I only stared at them in astonishment. There could be
+no mistaking my peculiar style of penmanship. And as the trunk passed
+my chair, I got a chance to inspect them at closer range. None of them
+had been opened.
+
+I am thankful that I had both the control and the good taste to
+wait until the moving was over and the other nurses had gone before
+confronting Gilberte with my discovery. At first she denied it
+vigorously; but when I rolled myself into her new room and took the
+packet from the trunk to wave it in front of her nose, she began to
+cry.
+
+"Why did you do it?" I demanded furiously. "Answer me, you little
+sneak!"
+
+I am sure she didn't understand what I was saying and this made me
+angrier than ever. My temper completely got the better of me and I did
+something I had never dreamed of doing to a woman before: I struck her
+across the mouth with the back of my hand.
+
+Poor woman, if only I could erase the mark of that blow! If only there
+was something, some sort of antidote for the deeds we do in this world
+without thinking! What she had done she had only done because she loved
+me. Probably I would have done the same, had I been in her position.
+But it was several hours before I cooled off and realized this.
+
+That very night I wrote to Anita again. This time I posted the letter
+myself. The staff raised a frightful rumpus when they discovered I had
+wheeled myself all the way into the village to the postmaster, and, I
+must admit, not without just cause. I returned to the hospital totally
+spent and for the following two weeks I had to be confined to my bed.
+Throughout this brief relapse, Nurse Monet continued to care for me.
+I don't think that she bore me any grudge for my having struck her.
+Nevertheless, I found out later that she had put in an application for
+a change of ward and been refused.
+
+Before I was finally discharged from the hospital I wrote some ten
+or twelve letters to Anita and received two in reply. I am still in
+possession of them. The paper on which they are written is yellowed
+with the years and the ink has faded until the writing is almost
+illegible. Intrinsically they are worth nothing; however, I think that
+if I copy them here, they might explain themselves and also how I
+felt when I first read them. In this way I might possibly be able to
+transfer to you the intangible mental unrest I suffered because of them.
+
+The first was a short note, written in a great hurry on a piece of
+Ithaca Hotel stationery. It ran:
+
+    June 3, 1919
+
+    Dear Peter,
+
+    I am so glad to hear that you are alive and getting along nicely.
+    Of course, I am sorry to hear that you've been wounded but I think
+    you are very lucky to have gotten away so easily, don't you? You
+    know that the newspapers listed you in the casualties and getting
+    a word from you was like receiving a communication from a ghost.
+    As a matter of fact, I have been wearing mourning clothes for over
+    two months. And oh, Peter, I've been so dreadfully lonesome here in
+    Ithaca since the Armistice. I haven't been outside this house in
+    almost three weeks ... except to do my shopping. Please write to me
+    and let me know your plans. By all means do not leave the hospital
+    until you have been pronounced completely well. If it is advisable
+    that you remain another month or two, don't disregard the doctors.
+    I can wait. And don't, for heaven's sake, try anything juvenile
+    like surprising me.
+
+                                                             Your wife,
+
+                                                                 Anita.
+
+There were two things that immediately struck me as being strange about
+the letter. The first was the curious absence of the word "love." She
+had not even said, "Your _loving_ wife." The second was that while
+the stationery bore the insignia of the familiar Ithaca Hotel, the
+envelope was stamped with the incongruous postmark of New York City.
+If she had not been out of the house, how then could this letter have
+been mailed more than two hundred and fifty miles away? This worried me
+considerably.
+
+Her next and last letter I received just as I was preparing to leave
+the hospital, bound for Paris. I thrust it into my pocket unopened,
+deciding to read it after I had said my goodbyes. I had made
+arrangements with the driver of a produce lorry to take me in with him
+on one of his semi-weekly trips to the capital and he was parked before
+the main gate, impatiently punching the rubber bulb of his horn.
+
+Hurriedly, I bade farewell to everyone--doctors, nurses, orderlies--but
+Gilberte I could not find. At the risk of having the lorry proceed
+without me, I raced through the entire hospital, thrusting my neck into
+every room much to the annoyance of staff and patients. Just as I was
+about to give up hope, I spotted her sitting alone at the far end of
+the garden. I could see by her posture that there was something wrong.
+Her shoulders sagged disconsolately.
+
+"Gilberte!" I called as I hurried over to her. "I'm leaving now. Didn't
+you know? I've been searching all over for you. I couldn't bear the
+thought of leaving without saying goodbye."
+
+"Goodbye," she said apathetically.
+
+I looked at her in astonishment. We had long since made up after our
+quarrel about the letters and this passive attitude on her part puzzled
+me. I raised her chin with one finger but she steadfastly refused to
+meet my eyes.
+
+"What's wrong, Gilberte?" I asked. "Aren't you sorry to see me go?
+We've been such good friends and all that. I'm going to miss you, you
+know."
+
+"That is nize," she replied dully.
+
+It was then that I noticed her hands. They were clenched tightly in her
+lap. The knuckles were white and the skin covering them was stretched
+taut, almost to the point of being transparent. Her eyes she kept fixed
+on the ground. Though her cheeks were pale and her lips quivered at
+the corners, I knew that she had not been crying. I was glad of that,
+at least.
+
+I moved to take her in my arms but she turned her head away. "Please,"
+she whispered, "don't kiss me." There was a harsh, but barely audible,
+agony in her voice which brought a lump into my throat. At that moment
+I knew the full tragedy of war. War injects the virus of sadness
+into the veins of all and the innocent suffer along with the guilty.
+Sometimes I feel that the dead are the fortunate for they, at least, no
+longer have to look upon the wreckage.
+
+The lorry driver began to honk away with renewed vigor. I knew that if
+I kept him any longer he was sure to drive off without me. Under my
+breath I cursed the restless fellow and, stooping quickly, I kissed
+Gilberte's forehead and ran to the road without a backward glance.
+
+Needless to say, I felt very sad. Instinctively, I was aware that I
+would never see Nurse Monet again. My heart was cold with misgivings,
+as though some strange, dark traveller had passed close by and I
+had felt the swish of his cloak. Once beside my heavily-moustached
+companion, I turned for a last glimpse of her but the thick foliage
+above the low garden wall cut off the view.
+
+As the lorry rattled and banged along the rural roads, quaking in
+every inch of its ancient frame, I tore open Anita's letter. This,
+too, was short. The handwriting was a scrawl, almost childish in its
+carelessness.
+
+     July 22, 1919
+
+    Dear Peter,
+
+    Received your letters and am happy to note that you have recovered
+    from your illness. I have some great news for you which ought to
+    cheer you up. The Great Eastern Drug Company is interested in
+    buying the store! They are offering an incredible sum. You know
+    that that is the chain with drugstores in almost every city and
+    town east of the Mississippi. We can consider ourselves fortunate
+    that they are interested in our place rather than Cavender's.
+    Probably, after they take over, they'll force him out of business.
+    Peter, maybe if we sell the store we can live in New York. What
+    do you think of that? You can open a place there, you know. We can
+    talk about it some more when I see you. Cable me what boat you'll
+    be on and I'll meet you at the dock.
+
+                                                                 Anita.
+
+That's all there was. I turned the letter over and over in my hands,
+searching for something that was not there....
+
+Again no word of love.
+
+
+
+
+                               PART TWO
+
+                              THE GROWTH
+
+
+I believe that I have succeeded in giving you a rough résumé of the
+events which preceded my homecoming from France. I have not gone into
+any great detail; firstly, because it might in some way confuse the
+main issue; and secondly, because many of the less important incidents
+have blurred in my mind with the passing of the years.
+
+I have neither invented anything nor colored the events to favor
+myself. I have not tried to find any excuse for the things I did or the
+emotions I experienced. You will admit that the portrait I have painted
+of myself in no way depicts a hero or a martyr. But I do pray that you
+will credit my outspoken truthfulness--which I am essaying at any
+cost--by learning the whole story before you turn thumbs down.
+
+I must confess that there was no malicious plot brewed to ruin me
+and mark me a murderer; and I do not consider myself a victim of
+circumstance. My trial on an indictment of First Degree Murder was the
+essence of fair play; the jury that convicted me was composed of very
+honest, unprejudiced citizens who, after hearing the preponderance of
+unfavorable testimony in the case, voted the only plausible verdict. I
+daresay had I myself been a member of that jury and somebody else been
+on trial, I would have been quite in accord with that decision.
+
+Really, there is only one person to be blamed: myself. Of course when
+you have learned of Anita's actions, you may form the opinion that she
+did a frightful thing--and you will be quite right. However, if I had
+not been such a blind idiot, the whole thing might never have happened.
+And although I blame her for permitting me to marry her, I blame myself
+more. Certainly, any half-witted child could have detected something
+mighty peculiar about my marriage from the very first; and there is
+nothing quite as inexcusable as utter stupidity.
+
+The entire voyage--from the time the ship left Havre until we sighted
+the Statue of Liberty--I spent in trying to disperse the growing doubts
+and fears which assailed me. If the war had done much to injure me--and
+it undoubtedly had--it also did something to help. By virtue of my long
+absence from her side, I was able to view Anita more objectively. I was
+able to pick out motives for this and that which I had never noticed
+before. The clearer insight, unfortunately, was not very pleasant
+because not only could I see Anita less obscurely, I also took frank
+stock of myself. What could she possibly have seen in me?
+
+It may be that I have an inferiority complex; a neurologist who visited
+the prison during my term told me that I have. The fact that I always
+have felt self-conscious in a new hat or overcoat seems to bear him
+out in this contention. But whether it is true or not, when I married
+Anita the successful outcome of my suit at once inflated my ego and I
+began to feel that I was _somebody_. How could I have felt subservient
+to anyone when I had the most sought-after woman in town as my wife?
+It was not until the war took some of the wind out of my sails and I
+had read and re-read several of her _friendly_ letters that I began to
+seriously wonder if she really did love me. If she did, I reasoned, it
+was a very cool sort of love and not at all like the fierce passions of
+the French.
+
+Much to my dismay, she substantiated this dark thought of mine by
+the way she greeted me at the dock. Surrounding us on all sides were
+lovers, families and close friends being reunited, openly kissing and
+embracing one another. But when I spotted Anita--looking perfectly
+beautiful--and hugged and kissed her, she turned her face away to
+preclude the possibility of any repetition. Not only that, she murmured
+in a slightly irritated tone of voice: "Oh, please. Must you do that
+here?"
+
+I laughed, though not very convincingly. "Darling, I don't care if the
+whole world knows I love you! I want them to know!"
+
+I kissed her again, over and above her protests and she said, "Well,
+that's very sweet of you and all that, Peter. But must you...?"
+
+At that moment a Customs officer interrupted the scene and I was
+grateful. Her marked indifference to my happiness at seeing her hurt me
+no end and, had we been alone, I think a scrap would have started. As
+it was, an hour later in a taxicab my repressed anger cooled and I slid
+an arm about her shoulders. She was far too exquisite to fight with
+and since she did not draw away from me or try to remove my arm, any
+suspicions I might have had--that she no longer cared for me--fled.
+
+We checked in at the Martinique Hotel, having decided to stay in the
+city overnight before taking the train for Ithaca. The desk clerk,
+a war veteran himself, kept me in conversation--much to Anita's
+disgust--while I registered. Although I was very tired from the ordeal
+of the dock formalities, she insisted that I immediately go out and
+purchase some civilian clothes.
+
+"That uniform will be the death of me," she complained. "While you've
+got it on, anyone, even a street-cleaner, feels he's your equal.
+Besides, you're not an officer."
+
+At this, I demurred. "I want to bathe and take a nap for a few hours
+first, darling. It's much too hot to shop in this sun. The stores stay
+open until seven and I can buy them then. Right after I've put on the
+new duds, we can eat dinner."
+
+Anita sighed wearily, as though I was some idiot whom she was eternally
+fated to humor. "You're hopeless but I suppose there is nothing that
+can be done about it. All right. Have your nap. But be sure you wake up
+and get your shopping done in time for an early dinner. I want to go to
+the theatre tonight."
+
+I stared at her stupidly.
+
+After having been separated from her husband for almost two years, she
+wanted to spend the first night of the reunion in a theatre!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Because I was unable to finish my medical course due to the sudden
+death of my mother, I am not a doctor; neither am I a psychoanalyst or
+a physiologist; but I am of the opinion that the sexual appetite of a
+person is the thermometer by which the degree of his or her love can
+be measured. By this I do not mean to infer that love is mere animal
+lust; certainly not. I do believe, though, that if a person is in love,
+sex follows naturally and continues to fire both parties only just so
+long as mutual adoration remains.
+
+All this, of course, is but a prelude to my telling you that Anita had
+to be coaxed.
+
+I write of this in embarrassment for I cannot conquer the feeling that
+I am revealing secrets rightfully belonging not to me alone, but to a
+sacred partnership. As a matter of fact, this entire tale is difficult
+to tell since the greater part of it concerns a woman now dead and
+unable to admit or deny its implications.
+
+This self-consciousness comes not from reviewing events which cannot
+be confirmed by concrete evidence, but because I realize that I am, in
+part, admitting the charges against me as set forth in the indictment.
+My attorney has pleaded with me to discontinue the writing of this
+manuscript, warning me that should it find its way into unfriendly
+hands it might be used against me. Despite everything he says, I have
+decided to ignore this potential danger. It is far more important to me
+that I be understood. Blame this on the newspapers which labelled me an
+insane killer and deliberately misquoted and misconstrued everything I
+said to reporters.
+
+Perhaps my digressions confuse; if they do it is unintentional.
+Remember that I am only a druggist, temporarily borrowing the pen.
+If this work is ever completed, I am sure that the desire to write
+anything else will never infect me. As it is, I don't feel at all at
+home writing and, were it not for the fact that I wish to offer my side
+of the story, I would remain silent.
+
+I have said that Anita had to be coaxed; and while some of you will
+disdainfully make the observation that I am hardly a person to arouse
+in any woman the warm efflux of genuine passion, at least I can lay
+claim that if this is so, I have always been the same. If Anita had
+been in love with me once--and she must have been to have married
+me--there was no plausible reason why she should suddenly change.
+
+Be this as it may, when we returned to the hotel from the theatre that
+night, she manifested an obvious disinclination to retire to our room.
+She hung back in the lobby.
+
+"Let's not go up yet," she begged. "I don't want to go to bed. We're in
+New York so seldom, you know."
+
+"But we have a very long train ride tomorrow, Anita. We'll be all worn
+out...."
+
+"Let's not, Peter. We can doze on the train."
+
+I looked at my watch. "But Anita darling! Don't you realize it's almost
+one o'clock! Where would you want to go at this hour of the morning?"
+
+She hesitated and bit her lower lip. "You had a nap this afternoon so
+you shouldn't be tired. We might," she suggested after a brief moment
+of thought, "try one of those funny little cabarets below Fourteenth."
+
+Even with the nap I was feeling rather spent and I firmly objected to
+this whim, trying to laugh her out of the notion. Moreover, having been
+deprived of my wife for so long a time, I had eagerly anticipated the
+moment when I might once more have her to myself. I do not think that
+it was unreasonable of me to suppose that she shared this feeling. If
+she loved me, as I was sure she did, she, too was thirsting for me.
+
+"But I _do_ want to see the Village, Peter!"
+
+"You will," I promised. "We'll come down here soon again, you and I.
+And when we do," I added with forced gaiety, "we'll do New York up
+brown." I took her elbow and gently urged her away from the revolving
+door. "But not tonight, dear."
+
+"Is that a promise?" she asked skeptically.
+
+"Cross my heart!"
+
+Anita seemed to come along reluctantly and she was pouting as we
+entered the elevator and shot up to our floor. I put the key into the
+lock and kicked the door open with a bang. Happy that we were at last
+by ourselves for the remainder of the night, I became jubilant as a
+schoolboy. I lifted her slim body, kicking, in my arms and staggered
+with her over the threshold. Still weak from my long convalescence in
+France, I am afraid that I was breathing heavily as I deposited her on
+the double bed. She sprang to her feet as though rebounding from the
+bed-springs.
+
+"Peter!" she protested testily. "What under the sun has gotten into
+you? You know better than to try that! You're certainly in no condition
+to...."
+
+But I stopped the rapid flow of her words by covering her mouth with
+kisses. With my mouth pressed hard against hers, I forced her back onto
+the bed. Our feet in dusty shoes soiled the pillows. So tightly were we
+together that I could feel her pelvis bones against me and her teeth
+behind her closed mouth and her full, hard breasts.... With one hand I
+felt for the snaps at the side of her dress.
+
+"I love you, Anita," I groaned.
+
+"You're hurting me," she answered.
+
+Some time later, as we lay on our backs and stared up at the dim
+expanse of the ceiling, Anita touched my arm. "Peter dear," she
+whispered softly.
+
+I thrilled at the affection in her tone. It at once brought to me a
+sense of contentment which complemented the delightful tranquil state
+that was now my body's. "Yes, sweetheart? What is it? Can I get you
+anything?"
+
+Her voice came back to me, wistfully out of the shadows. "Can we live
+in New York after the store is sold? You know how much I love it here
+and ... well, Ithaca has never seemed like home to me."
+
+I sat up in bed with a start. Anita was taking it for granted that
+I intended to sell out! Such, you may be sure, was not my plan. The
+thought of disposing of the thing I had dreamed about and worked for
+since its humble beginning four years before had not once merited my
+consideration. My store was now the largest of its kind in Ithaca and,
+since receiving Anita's letter informing me of Great Eastern's offer, I
+had been playing with the idea of opening a branch. Maybe I, too, would
+someday operate a chain of drugstores!
+
+Something cautioned me, however, and I held my tongue. Everything was
+peaceful now; why spoil it? "We'll talk about it tomorrow," I said and
+pounding my pillow with a fist, I dropped back and closed my eyes.
+
+"You're a darling, Peter," Anita went on and I felt cool fingers pass
+over my face in a soothing caress. "I just know you will. We can have
+a much better time here. Did you know that most of your friends have
+moved away since you left? Mrs. Burtleson and the Crespis and Walt
+Mandeville have all gone. Joe Crespi has a job selling Packards down
+here. Doing very well, too, I understand. And Myra Parsons got married
+to a Brooklyn man. He manages a factory or something. And she has a
+baby almost a year old, too. What do you think of that! Somehow I never
+thought of _her_ becoming a mother! Always liked to gad about when I
+knew her. And oh, yes. Harvey Bond--you remember him, don't you? Tall,
+funny-looking fellow with glasses and red hair? Sure you do. He used to
+live right next door to the Carpenter place on the Heights...."
+
+She stopped short. I could almost hear her teeth snap shut. I am
+positive that she had not meant to mention that name. But though I
+opened my eyes in the darkness, I made sure not to move a muscle. I was
+certain that if I showed any sign that I had noticed the slip, she
+would be embarrassed or uncomfortable.
+
+In a second, to cover up, she went on with a show of defiance. "Yes,
+and by the way, I hear that Leo Carpenter is down here somewhere.
+Somebody--I think it was Tom Murphy--said that he plans to go to Vienna
+soon to study. Lucky dog! His father left him a mint of money. He's
+about the only thing I've got against New York and he won't be here
+long, thank God." She paused for a few minutes until I thought that she
+had gone to sleep. Just as I was congratulating myself that such was
+the case, she recommenced the one-sided debate. "So you see. Peter,
+about the only people left in Ithaca whom we know at all well are Mrs.
+Michaelson and that awful Turnbull person. And you couldn't call them
+friends very well, now could you?"
+
+I did not answer her. I pretended that I had fallen asleep.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The next morning, much to Anita's disappointment, we boarded a train
+for Ithaca. I was in a state of high spirits; for returning to the
+town of my birth--which many times during the war I had never expected
+to see again--was a prospect both pleasant and exciting. I am one
+of those, I guess, whom the Cornell students slurringly refer to as
+"native sons." I have rarely had the desire to go to the big city
+with its stale smells, its filthy streets and its unbearable noises;
+preferring to remain peaceful and perhaps slightly bored in the country
+areas. Anita, on the other hand, was moulded from different clay. But
+she didn't reveal her restless spirit until after we had been married.
+
+To this very day, I don't know whether it was Ithaca or my own poor
+company that fired her with the wish to live in New York ... or whether
+it was the desire to be near Leo Carpenter. The whole thing is as vague
+now as it was then. At times I am sure that her mind never toyed with
+thoughts of infidelity; and, whatever the world may think, I still
+accept Anita's statement that she was never untrue to me while I was
+away at war at its face value.
+
+But I am forgetting myself and speaking of her as though she were
+still alive and not lying so stiff in her coffin.
+
+The train had scarcely pulled out of the station when Anita introduced
+the subject I had this far managed to evade. I tried my utmost to be
+indefinite, reminding her that I had not as yet interviewed the agent
+for The Great Eastern and that I could not possibly decide one way or
+the other until a thorough examination of the terms they offered was
+made.
+
+"Unless it is something extraordinary," I said, "I think it might be
+wise to hold on to the place. The store has been newly equipped, you
+know. Besides, the lease I hold is very favorable and still has quite a
+long time to run. We don't need money badly enough to throw away a good
+thing, do we? The Great Eastern wouldn't be interested in the place if
+they didn't know it was a live investment."
+
+"Oh, you'll like the offer they're making, all right," predicted Anita
+confidently. "Young Murphy couldn't believe his ears when the man
+approached him and named a tentative sum. How long do you think it will
+take before we can move, Peter? I've already spoken to the Carpenter
+Realty Company about putting the house on the market. They don't
+believe we'll have much trouble getting rid of it."
+
+I winced but said nothing. Fearful lest my face reveal disapproval of
+these high-handed measures, I turned and looked out of the window at
+the racing scenery. We were somewhere in Pennsylvania. The train was
+whipping around sharp bends and the low mountains on either side of
+us were studies in contrasting shades of green. Now and then we would
+plunge into short tunnels and when we would emerge, the sunlight was
+blinding. I had a headache.
+
+"Well?" persisted Anita.
+
+"Well what?" I asked without taking my eyes from the window. I have
+never been much of an actor--my eyes give me away--and pretending not
+to be aware of the subject being discussed would never get by if I
+faced her.
+
+"Are we going to live in New York or not? Really, Peter, you're not
+paying much attention. Have I been talking to myself this last half
+hour?"
+
+"Eh? ... er, no, of course not, dear. Live in New York? Well ... if we
+sell out, we'll talk about it. There's no great hurry, is there? After
+all, I'm not even home yet!"
+
+She said no more about it after that. A colored nurse came to occupy
+the seat opposite us leading one little girl of about five or six and
+carrying a baby in her arms. Both Anita and myself amused ourselves
+by playing with the tot until I whispered to Anita: "She's so cute! I
+wouldn't mind having one like her myself."
+
+Anita dropped the little girl's hand as though it was red-hot and with
+a wave sent her back to her nurse-girl.
+
+"Wouldn't you?" I stammered.
+
+She looked at me for a moment before replying. There was something cold
+and piercing in her stare that I didn't like. I couldn't imagine what I
+had said so wrong.
+
+"No," she said flatly, "I wouldn't."
+
+We had no sooner reached the front gate of our house when I stopped in
+astonishment. The way the little place looked--run down, the garden
+choked with weeds, the lawn grown up--was enough to bring tears of
+disappointment to my eyes. The gate, usually so trim and bright, was
+covered with rust and hanging crazily on a single broken hinge. I
+looked toward Anita speechlessly.
+
+"Oh, I know things look pretty bad," she admitted with a shrug in
+answer to my wordless question. "But you must remember that I was all
+alone here. And don't forget that you haven't been here in two years.
+Things change."
+
+"They certainly do," I remarked with ill-disguised meaning and she
+flashed me a sharp look as we picked our way through the shabby yard to
+the front door. Here, too, I found evidence that struck me as strange.
+Before the door, rolled up but with the dates visible, were four copies
+of _The Journal-News_. None of them had been opened.
+
+Before I could comment upon them, Anita sighed, "Oh, dear. I've been
+so busy these last few days that I haven't even had time to read the
+paper! And you, complaining about the grounds!"
+
+I let this pass and did not question her further although I was
+totally innocent of what it was that occupied all of her time. Before
+the war she had always been faced with the problem of how to while away
+her leisure hours.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A few days spent in examining the books of my store and conferring
+with the man from The Great Eastern definitely decided me that I would
+be unwise to sell. Business was booming with prices right. The Ithaca
+Drug Company was doing so well that I offered Tom Murphy the permanent
+job of my assistant which he joyfully accepted. The store swarmed with
+customers from the time we opened each morning until we reluctantly
+closed the doors. I began to deliberate seriously the advisability of
+inaugurating an all-night policy.
+
+As yet I had not informed Anita of my decision to refuse Great
+Eastern's offer. I knew that she would be very disappointed and I
+wished to delay as long as possible the verdict which she would
+undoubtedly consider foolish and quite inconsiderate of her feelings in
+the matter.
+
+After the passage of a week, however, I felt that I could not decently
+withhold the news longer. I was not afraid of Anita in any sense of
+the word, mind you, but I dreaded to see her unhappy. If only I had
+suspected that the store was the match which would eventually cause
+the terrible conflagration of our marriage, you may be sure that I
+would have disposed of it at any cost! You see, before I married, my
+life belonged exclusively to that store; afterwards it became entirely
+Anita's.
+
+Just as I was about to put on my hat and go home to tell her, Doc
+Turnbull entered the place and we got to talking.
+
+"You're doing a wise thing, boy. Those city fellers are a shrewd
+bunch and no mistake. They'd skin the eye-teeth out of their own
+grandmothers. Hold on to this joint if it's the last thing you do. At
+the rate you're going now, Ray Cavender can't last much longer across
+the street and this section will all be yours."
+
+"Yes," I said, "but Doc, suppose they buy out Cavender and try to break
+me by under-selling? You know I can't buck a rich company like that."
+
+Doc spit. "It would take a hell of a lot of under-selling to make the
+townspeople desert you in favor of them, son. The Great Eastern knows
+that. If they can't work out a fair deal, they won't try to push their
+way in. Don't worry."
+
+We chatted a while longer until I happened to notice the clock above
+the soda fountain. "Good heavens! I've got to run now, Doc. Say, why
+don't you drop around to the house tonight? Weather looks nice and
+clear so there won't be many mosquitoes. We'll sit down by the lake and
+chew the fat."
+
+Doc sighed profoundly. "You know, I miss that garden of yours, son.
+Haven't set foot in it for over two years, would you believe it? But
+I won't be able to make it tonight, I reckon. Too many patients are
+yelling for pills."
+
+I laughed. "Now don't try to tell me that you deserted your favorite
+spot just because I was away! Didn't you drop in on Anita?"
+
+Turnbull picked up his instrument case. "When? You know the only time
+I can get around to paying social calls is on Friday or Saturday. Hell.
+And you know your missus ain't shown hide nor hair around town during
+weekends since you left for the other side." He grunted and mopped his
+damp face with a pocket handkerchief. "I suppose because she bought one
+of them week-end special commutation tickets on the railroad she just
+felt she _had_ to use it up. Every Friday afternoon, regular as the
+clock, she'd be on the train."
+
+Together we left the store. I think the old man must have seen
+something in my face because, as we separated, he asked: "What's eating
+you, son? Anything the matter? You're not looking so chipper tonight."
+
+"Oh, nothing, Doc, I guess," I hurriedly reassured him. "I suppose this
+business about the store has got me going. Anita wants me to sell out."
+
+Doc shook his head. "Now don't you listen to her, Pete. Mind what I
+say. You've got a nice living here. Lots of fellers would like to be in
+your shoes. Me, for one."
+
+"'Night, Doc."
+
+"'Night, Pete."
+
+The information that Anita had spent every week-end away from home
+during my absence, occupied my mind as I walked home that evening,
+completely driving the business of the store from my thoughts. It was
+not until I was seated at the dinner table that I remembered what I
+would be forced to tell her. I was pondering the problem or what was
+the easiest way to break the news when--as on previous nights--Anita
+herself brought up the subject of the proposed transaction.
+
+"Well, Peter? Did you get the papers?"
+
+To forestall her, I had invented the story that they were drawing up
+contracts for my approval or rejection. In the meantime, I was supposed
+to be making a thorough investigation of the store's books, the value
+of the stock on hand, and of business conditions in general.
+
+I forced myself to be direct. "Anita," I said, looking her squarely in
+the eyes, "I'm not going to sell out."
+
+As I said this, she was pouring the iced tea. Pitcher in hand, she
+leaned forward with a frown darkening her face. "You're what! You're
+not going to sell?"
+
+"No. I think I'll hold on to the place."
+
+Her breast heaved as though she had suddenly become short of breath and
+her lips tightened into that thin, white line I had come to dread. "But
+I want you to sell," she said evenly. I could feel the wealth of fury
+repressed in those six simple words.
+
+"I'm sorry, Anita," I replied quietly, trying not to look ashamed of
+myself. "I've already turned the offer down." Then her eyes began to
+blaze and I half-rose from the table. "Now look here. There's no call
+for you to take on. That store is all we've got and the best thing we
+can do is to keep it."
+
+I will never forget her lip curling into a sneer as she brought the tea
+pitcher down onto the table with such force that a great crack appeared
+in its heavy pottery from base to spout. "So that's how much you love
+me, is it?" she cried. "You know I hate it here! Do you expect me to
+slave for you in this dirty little hovel all my life? Well, I won't! I
+won't, I tell you!"
+
+I can't remember my exact words but I made the rather caustic remark
+that the house had always been presentable until she commenced taking
+weekly trips to New York in my absence. As soon as I uttered this, I
+was sorry for it. The sneer faded from her lips, leaving her quite pale
+and defeated looking. Both of us remained silent for what seemed to be
+a long time.
+
+At length, seeing that she made no retort in defense of herself, I
+reseated myself and poured out the tea. Although I did not look up
+at her, I could feel her heavy breath on my forehead. "I'm keeping
+the store, Anita," I reiterated as though to put an end to the whole
+dispute.
+
+Anita silently left the room and I had to finish my dinner alone.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I imagine a good many husbands would have insisted on knowing more
+about the regular (or irregular?) week-end excursions of their wives;
+and perhaps if I had done so I would not have had to spend so many
+years in prison; but I was so confident that the trips were merely in
+the category of mischievous outings, spent mainly in theatres that I
+did not press the subject. Anyway, I did not want to further irritate
+Anita. The turning down of the offer had done quite enough harm.
+
+For three days following the scene described, she would not speak to
+me. The house became as gloomy and silent as a tomb. On the fourth day
+she contracted a severe toothache. Her jaw was actually swollen and it
+looked as if it might be terribly painful. Anita swathed her face in
+napkins and at frequent intervals grudgingly employed the preparation
+(chloroform, oil of cloves and creosote in equal parts) I had brought
+her from the store. Although it was impossible for her to eat anything,
+she flatly refused either to visit the dentist or to allow me to summon
+one.
+
+"You never asked me why I went to New York almost every week-end,"
+she announced acidly out of the good side of her mouth, "so I never
+mentioned my teeth. They've been giving me trouble for some time. But
+of course you wouldn't be interested in that!"
+
+Her bitter sarcasm made me feel guilty and in the wrong. I made
+haste to assure her that such was not the case and that indeed I was
+interested in her health. My obviously earnest sympathy seemed to
+placate her somewhat.
+
+"I've been going down there to visit a dentist," she went on, after a
+sullen moment of silence. "The old fool we have in town here doesn't
+know a tooth from a toe! If I'd let him, he'd yank them all! But this
+man in the city is simply wonderful. I can't recall who it was that
+recommended him to me, but he never hurts me with the drill."
+
+This voluntary explanation of her trips tore the veil of mystery which
+had surrounded them and made me feel a suspicious idiot. I must confess
+that for a time I had been harboring frightful thoughts: dreams of
+Anita in alien arms. Now, with her story convincingly illustrated by
+a badly swollen jaw, I could only curse myself inwardly for having so
+filthy a mind. I was totally unworthy, I silently told myself, to be
+the recipient of such a fine woman's love.
+
+All that night she tossed and turned in agony. Several times I was at
+the point of dressing and going down to the store for a powder which
+might induce her to sleep; but by the time I had made up my mind to do
+this, she would fall into a light doze and I was afraid to awaken her.
+
+In the morning, at her suggestion, I put her aboard the eastbound train
+for New York. She promised that she would return the same evening in
+time to get me some dinner. I knew that that would not leave her much
+time in the city but I didn't like the idea of her travelling at night
+or, worse yet, spending the night in some city hotel.
+
+My day at the store was singularly eventful. Usually the hours would
+pass filling prescriptions, interviewing pharmaceutical salesmen, or
+chatting with the steady customers. But on that day the agent for The
+Great Eastern reappeared upon the scene, hot and irritable and offering
+fully a thousand dollars more than he had previously been authorized
+to give. I took luncheon with him at the Ithaca Hotel and informed
+him that I would consider his offer only upon the express agreement
+that I would be given the management of the store. This, he assured me
+in no uncertain terms, was a ridiculous demand. We parted, both of us
+decidedly in bad temper. In my ears rang his farewell words: "Thatcher,
+you are _the_ most pig-headed son of a bitch I've ever met!"
+
+This anger of mine was very unfortunate as I later found out. It made
+me three enemies: Mrs. Wainscott and the parents of that incorrigible
+little brat, Jackie Mackintosh. The former, when she sidled nervously
+up to the counter and whispered a confidential something in my ear,
+I brusquely answered: "What? For heaven's sake, madam! Can't you ask
+for anything in a normal tone of voice? What are you afraid of? If you
+want a box of suppositories, ask for a box of suppositories!" Of course
+Mrs. Wainscott grew red in the face and abruptly left the store with
+the muffled guffaws of the loungers at the soda fountain burning in her
+ears. I did not see her again until she testified against me at the
+trial.
+
+Not five minutes later, I administered a hearty spanking to
+Jackie, whom I caught red-handed with both his pockets filled with
+chocolate-covered cherries. He must have run home immediately to his
+mother and complained of this treatment for later in the afternoon she
+called upon me at the store, accompanied by her equally irate husband.
+All of my patient explanations that Jackie's behaviour was not without
+precedent made no impression and, at last, I flew into a rage and
+ordered the trio from the store. As they departed, Mr. Mackintosh flung
+back over his shoulder, "You'll pay for this, Thatcher. Mark my words!"
+
+But, angry as I was, I was more incensed at my own bad conduct. Never
+before had I insulted customers with such abandon. I had always been
+careful, despite any emotional upheavals among my clientele, to
+maintain an imperturbed exterior. Sadly, on the day in question, I
+bridged this self-imposed gap with a vehemence born of my knowledge
+that neither Mrs. Wainscott nor the Mackintosh clan were valued
+patrons. Little did I suspect at the time that those petty squabbles
+would help to dig the grave I was soon to inhabit for many, many years.
+
+As a precaution, just before I started for home on that
+never-to-be-forgotten night of August 20, 1919, I asked Tom Murphy to
+make up an effective sleeping draught and bring it around to my house
+on his way home. I realized that Anita might suffer further pain in
+spite of, and with all due respect to, her city dentist. In any event,
+I reasoned, it would do no harm to have something of the kind in the
+house. Murphy agreed to deliver the stuff not later than nine o'clock.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When I sat down at the dinner table that night, Anita impatiently waved
+aside my solicitous inquiries regarding her teeth and thrust a letter
+into my hands:
+
+"This came for you today. I can see it's from some woman. You'd better
+read it."
+
+From her tone of voice and the look in her eye, I gathered that Anita
+was deriving some huge satisfaction from the letter. She was gloating
+and nowhere, strangely, was I able to detect a sign of jealousy.
+Ordinarily, I would say that these signs were the usual masochistic
+antics of the wife who has caught her husband in some nefarious
+practice; but in Anita I determined a note of triumph--like the
+exclamation of a soldier who has just impaled the enemy on his bayonet.
+
+I realized immediately from the handwriting and the postmark that the
+letter was from Gilberte. I ripped open the envelope with a show of
+innocence. It wasn't a very long letter but I could not have read it
+then or at any other time. It was in French.
+
+I will not ask you to believe me in this; the jury didn't. After nearly
+two years in France, sojourning for the most part with people who spoke
+no English, it doesn't sound plausible that I had not picked up enough
+French to decipher Gilberte's simple message. Nevertheless, it is so. I
+have never been good at learning languages and, except for a few choice
+idioms of profanity garnered at the front, I am hopelessly incapable
+of translating anything more than drugstore Latin.
+
+After a glance at it, I passed the letter across the table for Anita's
+inspection. "What does it say?" she asked coldly. "Or is it too
+personal for your wife to know?"
+
+"I don't know myself," I replied with a shrug.
+
+"Really!"
+
+"You can see for yourself. It's in French."
+
+She sniffed. "And you can't read it, eh?"
+
+"No."
+
+Anita turned the letter over and read the signature. "Gilberte. Who's
+she?"
+
+"She was one of the nurses in the hospital. A nice old lady who was
+kind to me," I lied for no other earthly reason than perhaps to divert
+her attention from the letter. "I'll get someone to translate it for me
+tomorrow. I think Mr. Ottavio, the Italian shoemaker, speaks a little
+French. Or maybe one of the professors from up on the hill might come
+into the store."
+
+And with that, I stuffed the letter into my pocket and promptly forgot
+about it. There was nothing farther from my mind at that time than
+Gilberte; and while I had come to miss her, other and more important
+things kept cropping up before I had time to evoke any more than a few
+pleasant memories. Like Doctor Carpenter, Nurse Monet was only a shadow
+of the past, occasionally looming up to loiter near the more remote
+fringe of the present.
+
+We continued to eat the meal in silence, Anita chewing cautiously
+in one side of her mouth. As she brought in the dessert--a gelatin
+pudding topped with whipped cream--I asked her what the dentist had
+accomplished. As an answer, she reached into her apron pocket and
+rolled two very large molars onto the table. The roots of the teeth
+were still dark with traces of dried blood and the sight of them at
+the dinner table was almost enough to make me ill. With difficulty, I
+mastered my nausea and turned what I hoped were sympathetic eyes in her
+direction.
+
+"Poor kid," I murmured and going over to her I took her in my arms. She
+turned her back to me so that it was impossible to see her face, but
+the gelatin in the dish she was holding trembled and almost bounced to
+the floor. "Darling, I didn't know. It must've been awful."
+
+"Much you care!" she said, bursting into tears. I held her as close as
+I could and straining myself, I managed to kiss the side of her mouth.
+
+"Now, now. You know I care!"
+
+"I ... I thought you ... loved me!" she whimpered.
+
+"But what an idea! Of course I love you! Have I ever said that I
+didn't? Come now, Anita. What is it? Have I been nasty to you?"
+
+"You ... you don't care how I feel! You won't do the one thing in the
+world I want you to do! You know I'm rotting here! You know everyone in
+town hates me!"
+
+I tried to laugh her out of the idea although I suddenly realized how
+few friends Anita really had. None of the other young married women
+ever came to call on her. I had taken note of this once before and,
+after much thought, had put it down as rank jealousy. Anita was far too
+beautiful. But it was unnatural that she should not have at least one
+friend among her own sex.
+
+"And I hate them, too!" she continued in that little, choking voice.
+She had moved over to the table and, disregarding the dishes, some of
+which were dangerously close to the edge, buried her face in her arms.
+Her position reminded me of that night--July 2, 1917--when she had shed
+alcoholic tears in almost the same spot.
+
+How long she continued to sob there and how long I stared blankly at
+her quivering breasts and at the delicate tendrils of blonde hair that
+curled at the nape of her neck, I do not know. For it was then that I
+began to weaken a little in my resolution. As this was happening to
+me, I became conscious of the fact that I was speaking, backing up my
+gradually dying decision not to sell with forceful words of refusal.
+Just exactly what I said and precisely what she replied to me, I am
+unable to remember. It may be that a touch of my old shell-shock malady
+came back and seized my memory for a little, twisting it out of focus.
+
+Because the next thing I can vividly recollect is Anita standing
+on her two feet, pale and furious, with mother's discolored steel
+carving-knife in her hand. On the floor around the legs of the table
+were several chipped and broken dishes which her sudden leap must have
+knocked down.
+
+"You're killing me!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. The shrill
+quality of her voice sent a shuddering response through me. My heart
+constricted, leaving me as cold as ice and dead certain that something
+awful was about to happen. I could feel the hairs rise on me. "Don't
+you know that you're killing me, you fool? Every day, every minute I
+have to stay here! ... Oh, I can't stand it any longer!"
+
+Risking a nasty cut, I went toward her, hoping to get the knife away
+from her; but she moved off a few paces as I approached. "Don't be
+childish, Anita," I pleaded. "And stop that screaming. Do you want the
+neighbors to hear?"
+
+It may seem silly that at a trying moment like that I should be
+concerned about anyone other than the two of us; nevertheless, such
+was the case. I have always secretly dreaded that my personal affairs
+someday might be aired in public. This fear was born of a life spent
+in a small town. I have seen too many people broken and unable
+to hold their heads up after the malicious work of gossipers and
+scandal-mongers.
+
+I continued to try to quiet her but she would not be hushed. "Why are
+you doing this to me? You hate me, don't you? Oh, don't deny it! I know
+you hate me! Well ... I hate you, too!"
+
+"Anita!" I gasped.
+
+"Yes, I do! I hate you! I can't stand the sight of you! You bore me,
+see? You didn't know that, did you? Well, now you do!"
+
+The tears were drying on her face and in her eyes, leaving them rimmed
+and reddened. The rouge on her cheeks stood out against her dead
+white skin in round, uneven splotches. With her hair in disarray, she
+looked almost mad and, I must confess, horribly ugly. Seeing her this
+way after once having witnessed her beautiful, frightened me. It also
+hastened me in my decision to do what she wished.
+
+I managed to get my hand on the hilt of the knife and I began to twist
+it from her grasp. Struggling to retain it, Anita commenced to shout
+again with still more rage. "Let me alone! Let me alone, do you hear?
+I'll kill you if you take that away! Oh ... you're hurting me! God
+damn you! I'll ... I'll ..." And here her words ran into one another,
+becoming unintelligible expostulations of hatred.
+
+I suppose I did hurt her a bit; but it was absolutely necessary. In the
+mood she was in, I was afraid either that she might attack herself with
+the knife or use it against me. In any case, her being in possession of
+the thing was a decided menace.
+
+To anyone outside who might have heard Anita's words, it would
+undoubtedly seem that she really and truly despised me; I myself put
+no stock in them. I was sure that her fit of temper was but a phase of
+her physical condition and that she didn't mean any of the mean things
+she said about me. You must know then that Anita was menstruating that
+night and do not forget that earlier that very day she had had two
+teeth extracted. What she had gone through was enough to make any woman
+fly off the handle.
+
+I thought that if I could get the knife away from her and put her to
+bed, in the morning everything would be peaceful again. She was still
+screaming and clawing at my chest like some enraged lioness when I
+finally managed to remove the dangerously sharp knife from her fingers.
+
+Then, to my dismay, the doorbell rang.
+
+Anita stopped her noise at once. Together we looked stupidly at one
+another. Then she nodded that I should go and see who was outside.
+The ringing of the bell evidently calmed her hysteria for, as though
+thoroughly done in, she sank into a chair as I moved reluctantly toward
+the front door, absent-mindedly dangling the captured knife from one
+hand.
+
+Well, young Tom Murphy saw that carving-knife and he could not have
+helped hearing all the screaming as he came up the walk. He gave me
+a searching look as he handed me the package containing the sleeping
+draught.
+
+"Here you are, Mr. Thatcher," he said. "This ought to do the trick."
+
+I accepted the package with the hand that held the knife, thanked him
+in a hollow voice, and he hurried away as though he was anxious to get
+out of the vicinity.
+
+When I got back to the kitchen, Anita was opening a large bottle of
+beer which we were accustomed to drink after dinner during the hot
+weather. She poured out two glasses recklessly, the foam spilling onto
+the tablecloth.
+
+"It's a sleeping powder, Anita," I said, opening the packet and placing
+the little fold of paper near her hand. "Your tooth may ache. Good idea
+to drop it in your beer."
+
+She gave no sign that she heard me. Although she had stopped crying,
+there was a wet shine to her eyes that I didn't like. In her silence
+I could feel repressed a stony hatred for me and it absolutely took
+away what few regrets I had regarding the store I was now so firmly
+resolved to sell. Why I didn't tell her of my change of heart, I do
+not know. Maybe if I had, things would have turned out differently.
+However, I thought that if I waited until morning, Anita would be in a
+more receptive mood. At the moment she was in a very unbalanced state
+and the subject was one which would have to be handled delicately. If
+I came right out and admitted defeat she might think that her weeping
+and wailing had affected me. I did not want her to know that; she might
+employ those tactics to wheedle me in the future.
+
+I made my way into the living-room in search of the evening paper.
+Somehow it had found its way under one of the sofa pillows so that it
+was almost five minutes before I returned with it to the kitchen. Anita
+was no longer in the room. One of the beer glasses was empty and the
+sleeping powder paper was crumbled into a tiny ball beside it.
+
+"Ah, she has taken it," I thought to myself, glad that the remainder
+of the evening would be unspoiled by such scenes as had taken place at
+dinner.
+
+Through the back window I could see Anita sitting woodenly on a
+camp-chair, facing the lake. It looked so very peaceful out of doors
+with the soft hand of twilight caressing the great trees, the ragged
+lawn and the lake itself. It reminded me of the war, strangely enough.
+After a heavy bombardment, when the firing ceased an unearthly
+stillness seemed to shriek in one's ears and the relief of it all was
+enough to drive one mad with happiness. And as I stared out of the
+window, I was happy. The storm had blown over and, if I had anything to
+do with causing it, it would never come again.
+
+With my glass of beer and my paper, I retired to the living-room. I
+would have liked to sit outside with Anita but I did not wish to risk
+any repetition of the quarrel. I was sure that she wanted to be alone
+and I knew how unpleasant it was to have one's solitude trespassed
+upon. So I made up my mind to let her alone. In the morning I would
+tell her of my surrender, trying to make it sound as if it were my own
+wish and not hers, and everything would be forgotten. We would dispose
+of the store, the house, and all of the furniture which was sadly out
+of date anyway. In New York we would start our lives all over again.
+
+Curiously, I began to anticipate making this fresh start with pleasure.
+After all, Ithaca had not been very kind to us. True, we had made a
+good living there, but we had had our scraps as well; and since our
+marriage the war had forced its way between the two of us, brandishing
+its most cruel weapon: estrangement.
+
+And the business I had built up out of nothing and struggled to keep;
+what had it brought me? Trying to hold on to it in the face of Anita's
+objections was a pyrrhic victory, a triumph as empty as the war. My
+most precious possession, I told myself, was Anita's love. The rest was
+only just so much baggage.
+
+These thoughts ran through my mind, bringing with them a conviction
+that I had been a fool. When I took Anita as my wife I promised myself
+that I would make her happy.
+
+Before I finished my beer or as much as read two columns of the
+newspaper, I dropped into a deep sleep.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Now I come to the part of the story that is difficult to relate. During
+the following hours I was still drowsy and feeling quite ill; then
+again, it all happened so suddenly that before I actually became aware
+of what was taking place, I found myself cooling my heels in the
+Ithaca jail.
+
+I suppose I even looked guilty. Real emotions hardly ever seem real.
+Stage performances have taken the edge off of them and stylized both
+physical and mental reactions to such a degree that if a faint is
+not executed in a certain way it looks bogus. My shocked expression,
+throughout these proceedings I here set down, no doubt impressed the
+police as being a very amateur affectation, attempted by me to conceal
+my obvious guilt. I even heard one of the cell attendants informing
+someone that I was "going to play nuts."
+
+If the following account of the morning I woke up sounds like a
+falsehood, remember that it has since been proved the truth.
+
+It seemed to me that I had merely drifted off for a few minutes but
+when I finally opened my eyes a bright morning sun was shining. So
+brilliant was it that I was momentarily blinded and confused. I started
+to rise from the chair but succeeded only in stumbling to the floor. My
+legs were numb and my head felt inflated, like some child's balloon.
+Before I could pick myself up from where I had fallen, I became
+conscious that the doorbell was ringing. It was an insistent ring, as
+though someone was belaboring the button in short, angry jabs.
+
+Still half asleep, I staggered to the door and opened it. I rubbed my
+eyes, squinting up into the ruddy face of one of the town's constables.
+It was Richter.
+
+"Sorry to get you up, Thatcher," he greeted me with apologetic
+gruffness. "Say! You must have had one too many last night, eh?"
+
+"Hello, Captain. My God, what time is it?"
+
+"Almost ten. Young Murphy's going crazy down there at the store.
+Business is certainly good this morning." He paused and fumbled in his
+cap for a paper. "Say, Thatcher, I've got some bad news for you. I'm
+afraid I'll have to bring you around to the station."
+
+This opened my eyes. Please believe that up until that time I had
+never had any encounters with the police, having always been careful
+not to violate any of the ordinances with the possible exception of
+Prohibition. "What have I done, Captain? Murdered someone?" I asked.
+
+He laughed good-humoredly. "No. But you should have, while you were at
+it. It's that Mackintosh kid. His old man swore out a warrant for your
+arrest on a charge of assaulting his brat. I don't know if it's true or
+not, but by God I'd like to assault him myself sometimes."
+
+"But look here, Captain," I protested. "I only..."
+
+"I know it's a damned nuisance. But orders, you know. The judge is a
+pretty decent sort and he'll probably give you a medal. Better get your
+hat."
+
+I shrugged my shoulders helplessly and told the constable to make
+himself comfortable on the porch while I got myself ready. Since I was
+so late for work anyhow, a little longer would make no difference. I
+was positive, that when I made it clear to whomever was going to hear
+the case exactly why I spanked Jackie, everything would be all right.
+
+As I turned to go inside, I felt Richter touch my sleeve. "Good Lord,
+Thatcher! What did you do? Cut yourself?"
+
+"Why no," I answered, puzzled. "What makes you say that?"
+
+He pointed a finger at my trousers and, looking down at them, I saw
+that they were stained with red! I stood there dumbfounded with my
+mouth hanging open.
+
+"That's blood all right," I heard the policeman mutter. "Yes, sir.
+That's blood. But where in hell did it come from?"
+
+Instantly I thought of the night just past. My mind was quick to grasp
+the situation and it evoked a vivid picture of Anita, standing with the
+carving-knife in her hand and threatening....
+
+"Anita!" I shouted hoarsely and with my heart in my mouth I ran into
+the house. I could hear Richter behind me, his ponderous weight making
+the old floor-boards vibrate under my feet.
+
+I saw then that the living-room was a shambles. A table was overturned,
+two lamps lay shattered on the carpet and everywhere were reddish
+smears that looked suspiciously like bloodstains. In the kitchen we
+found still more blood and a bloody apron of Anita's lying on the
+table, still set with the dirty dinner dishes. On the apron we found
+the carving-knife ... its blade a mess of crusted blood!
+
+In the face of all this horror, it is a wonder I didn't faint. However,
+even so, it is impossible for me to describe my feelings of that
+morning. Of course I was certain at once that Anita had committed
+suicide, had severed her veins or something equally terrible. But on
+racing through the rooms of the house, we could find no trace of her.
+Only some clothes and the two teeth she had tossed onto the table
+during dinner the night before spoke of her ever having been there.
+
+My frantic fear for Anita temporarily dulled my wits so that it was
+not until the constable and I had picked about in the dark cellar for
+some time that I remembered seeing Anita last sitting in the garden.
+I seized the policeman's arm and all but pulled him up the stairs,
+through the back hall and outside.
+
+But Anita was nowhere to be found. We searched the grounds thoroughly.
+The camp-chair, where last I had seen her, was empty, the canvas back
+of it still sagging from the weight of her shoulders. But, to our
+horror, from the back porch to the very edge of the lake ran a dark,
+repulsive trail of what was undoubtedly blood! In places there were
+merely a few drops on the taller tufts of grass, hardly visible to the
+eye; but mostly the awful trail ran wide....
+
+"She's thrown herself in!" I gasped. "My God, Captain! What can we do?"
+
+I burst into tears, something I hadn't done for many, many years. The
+constable waited in silence for me to control myself. He didn't try to
+comfort me.
+
+"Oh, Anita!" I cried. "Why did you do it? Oh, why did you do it?"
+
+Richter spit into the lake. "That's what I'd like to know, Thatcher,"
+he said curtly. He was looking at me closely, his brows knit into a
+frown.
+
+"Why, what do you mean, Richter?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, cut out that innocent stuff!" he growled disgustedly. "You know
+damned well what I mean."
+
+I assured him that I did not. He surely wasn't insinuating that I...
+Why the idea was absurd! Nevertheless, absurd or not, I saw the
+constable's face stubbornly set.
+
+"You don't believe that she committed suicide?" I asked in confusion.
+"Is it possible that she's still alive?" I stepped toward him and
+seized the front of his uniform blouse. "Tell me what you're thinking!"
+I demanded hysterically.
+
+"Alive hell!" was his comment and I suddenly felt my wrist encircled
+by a steel cuff which clicked shut and pinched my skin. "I don't know
+where you've hidden her, Thatcher, but she didn't commit no suicide!"
+
+"No?"
+
+"No. You better get yourself an alibi. How did you get that blood on
+your pants?"
+
+"I don't know!"
+
+"Well for your own good you'd better find out."
+
+"But Anita...."
+
+"Oh, we'll fish her out all right. But not now." Richter tugged at the
+bracelets. "I ain't got my water-wings with me. Come on," he added out
+of the corner of his mouth as he led me away from the lake shore.
+
+I went along with him dazedly. There was nothing else I could do.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+My trial was held in the Tompkins County Court house in Ithaca. The
+State was represented by an obnoxious little Assistant District
+Attorney who, nevertheless, I am forced to admit, handled his side of
+the case magnificently. Point by point he scored tellingly until he had
+almost convinced even me that I had done away with Anita.
+
+For the terrible part of it all was that I couldn't be quite sure
+whether I had or not. As Assistant District Attorney Blackman pointed
+out, I could very easily have committed the crime during one of my
+unfortunate lapses of memory. True, this souvenir of the war had not
+recurred since I was discharged from the hospital months before, but
+there was no evidence to prove that it _couldn't_ recur.
+
+So when old Doc Turnbull, who visited me in my cell before the trial,
+remarked kindly that he was sure I hadn't done it, I replied in
+despair: "But that's just it! How can you say I didn't kill her when I
+don't even know myself?"
+
+Unless my periodic amnesia was coupled with an unreasonable dementia,
+there was no motive for my killing Anita--as far as I was concerned.
+Gilberte's letter which I never read and which the State offered
+in evidence, had had nothing to do with it. I certainly did not
+murder Anita for Gilberte or for any other woman. Nevertheless, the
+translation of the letter in court did sound bad. Blackman read it
+aloud, punctuating each sentence with a knowing glance toward the jury
+and stressing certain words and phrases which, I am sure, Gilberte had
+never meant to be stressed.
+
+Translated, it ran something like the following:
+
+    August 8, 1919
+
+    Dearest Peter,
+
+    Perhaps I should not write to you ... but you forgot to forbid it.
+    It seems so long ago that we parted in the garden! I sit there
+    seldom nowadays because invariably it evokes sad memories and I do
+    not wish to think about you. That would be sheer masochism, nothing
+    more. Oh, Peter, if only you knew how wretched I am! By now you
+    are with your wife, _pretending_ that you are happy. For you are
+    pretending, you know. You can't possibly be happy with that woman.
+    From what you have told me about her, I am sure that she doesn't
+    care for you ... at least not half as much as I do. That is the
+    terrible part about life: the people who love are rarely loved
+    in return. Sometimes I find myself dreaming that one morning you
+    will awake and find her gone ... run off with another man or--yes,
+    you've guessed it--dead. With her out of the way, I know that you'd
+    come back to me, wouldn't you, Peter? But it is just a dream. I
+    cannot hope for so simple a solution to my problem ... the problem
+    that is turning me from a young girl into a sour old woman. I
+    suppose it is useless to ask you to write. You will, as always,
+    follow the dictates of your heart.
+
+                                                        Your miserable,
+
+                                                              Gilberte.
+
+Sitting there day after day in court, I watched the chain of
+circumstantial evidence grow stronger. After each witness testified,
+I saw the worried frown upon the face of my lawyer deepen. He was a
+very conscientious chap, Mr. Bristol; and I am sure he believed me
+absolutely innocent. If this was so, he was the only person, aside from
+Doctor Turnbull, who did.
+
+They subpoenaed my assistant, Tom Murphy, who grudgingly
+admitted that he had heard Anita and me quarreling; had seen the
+carving-knife--State's Exhibit C--in my hand when I answered the door;
+and that he had delivered to me, at my request, a potent compound of
+sodium amytal upon the night in question.
+
+"Did you hear any of the words, Mr. Murphy?"
+
+"Yes, I'm afraid I did. I heard her scream...."
+
+"Go on, Mr. Murphy. What did she scream?"
+
+"I heard her yelling that he was hurting her."
+
+The prosecution then went on to establish that I had been in a rare
+fury all through the day of August 20th. They called Mrs. Wainscott
+and Mr. and Mrs. Mackintosh to the stand. The last mentioned witness
+so deftly misused her words that the jury was left with the impression
+that I had drawn and quartered her precious Jackie instead of mildly
+spanked him.
+
+Next, to my astonishment, Anita's extracted teeth were offered in
+evidence. The prosecution suggested that I had knocked them loose from
+her mouth with an angry blow!
+
+Photographs depicting the scene of the crime, the wrecked kitchen and
+living-room, the preponderance of blood and the gory trail to the
+lake shore made the jury shudder and glance at me as though I were
+some grotesque curiosity. The blood-encrusted carving-knife; a torn,
+blood-soaked dress of Anita's which I had not been shown before; and
+my own stained trousers completed the major points of the State's case.
+
+But they were unable to produce a _corpus delicti_.
+
+Counsellor Bristol made much of this; it was his entire case, in fact.
+"How can there be a murder," he demanded, "without someone getting
+killed? And if someone was killed, who has seen the body? Lord Hale and
+Sir Edward Coke, those world-famous interpreters of law, positively
+forbid convictions unless the fact of murder has been proven. A _corpus
+delicti_ must be established! And to establish the same, there must
+first be a body and proof that the deceased perished by a criminal
+agency. It is easy to understand why these precautions must be taken.
+To quote Blackstone: 'It is far better that ten guilty escape than
+one innocent man be punished and made to suffer for naught.' In this
+case, there were no eye-witnesses to the crime ... if such a crime did
+actually take place. How then can we assume that on the night of August
+the twentieth this man did feloniously assault and kill his wife? The
+State has produced slim evidence indeed that this man was in love with
+another woman! From the letter, State's Exhibit B, it is admitted that
+the woman was in love with the Defendant. But by what evidence can the
+State prove that my client reciprocated her feelings? As a matter of
+fact, is it not more logical to suppose that, if my client really loved
+this woman, he would not have returned to his wife at all? The State
+has proved nothing of any importance. They have placed many articles
+in evidence but they have not proved, within the faintest shadow of a
+doubt, that these were used to commit a crime. The very weapon, this
+blood-stained knife, which the State presumes was the death agent; by
+what right can my worthy opponent claim such was the case? How does he
+know that death was not brought about by poison, by strangulation, by
+a pistol? How does he know there has been a death at all? Certainly
+there is nothing more innocuous than a sleeping powder! How has the
+State shown that it was used to drug a victim in order that murder
+might be done without a struggle? And regarding the heated quarrel
+the State makes so much of: does every petty argument between husband
+and wife always lead to violence and homicide? Show me the man who has
+never had words with his wife! And take note of this, gentlemen of
+the jury. A man administers a much-deserved spanking; does that label
+him a potential killer? If that were so, how many parents would now
+be languishing in prisons! I have said before, and I will say again,
+that it is up to the prosecution to prove my client guilty. He is not
+required to prove his innocence! Has the State done so? Have they
+proved that Peter Thatcher lies when he says that the teeth, marked
+State's Exhibit D, were extracted by a New York City dentist? There is
+no case here!"
+
+When my lawyer had finished summing up, Assistant District Attorney
+Blackman got to his feet. "The overwhelming evidence of murder in
+this case," he began, "is quite sufficient for us to presume death.
+By the trail of blood leading down to the shore of the lake, we can
+be certain, within the faintest shadow of a doubt, that the body was
+dragged there and thrown in, perhaps weighted down with stones. It is
+difficult to recover a body thus disposed of. The shifting currents
+of any large body of water, particularly a so-called bottomless
+lake like Cayuga, will ofttimes carry whatever has been thrown in,
+back and forth. If the body is weighted, it is possible that it may
+never be recovered." Blackman paused, pointed an accusing finger in
+my direction, and then went on in a grand manner. "Are we to allow
+a murderer to go unpunished because he has been clever enough to
+successfully destroy the evidence of his guilt? Picture for yourselves,
+gentlemen of the jury, what chaos would come if we established such
+a precedent here in this courtroom! A fiend could commit a murder on
+the high seas, before a hundred witnesses, and, tossing his victim
+over the rail, laugh at our courts if the body was not recovered!
+Here we have a man, a person _known_ to have suffered mental relapses
+due to shell-shock; _known_ to have engaged in a furious battle with
+his wife; _seen_ with this same knife, now covered with blood, in
+his hand by one of the witnesses who inadvertently interrupted the
+fight; _caught_ by an officer of the law, whose testimony you heard;
+and _clad_ in these bloody trousers! What more can you ask? You have
+heard read a passionate appeal from this man's mistress that he kill
+his wife and return to her side. The Defendant swears that he was
+unable to read that letter. Do you believe that? Would that woman
+have written so dangerous a letter to him in a language she knew he
+could not understand--_without getting someone to translate it for
+him_? You know that the Defendant sent his victim into New York City
+on the afternoon of August the twentieth. Isn't it logical to suppose
+that, in view of the evidence, he did this to get her out of the way
+so that he might more carefully set the scene for his heinous deed?
+You have heard sworn testimony to the fact that Peter Thatcher ordered
+a sleeping powder--ostensibly because his wife's teeth were giving
+her trouble. Yet, we are unable to extract from him the name of the
+dentist he claims she visited! Is it logical to suppose that a man
+would be ignorant of the identity of his wife's dentist? Can we not
+safely assume that the sleeping powder was intended--no, was actually
+employed--for quite another purpose? We must not overlook the fact
+that the Defendant was making use of a potent drug, the use of which
+is forbidden unless upon a physician's written prescription. And
+furthermore, gentlemen, remember that the Defendant, when I frankly
+questioned him, _did not even bother to deny that he was guilty of
+the charges as set forth in the indictment_! To the question, 'Peter
+Thatcher, didn't you drug and kill your wife on the night of August
+the twentieth, using this knife as a weapon and later disposing of
+the body, by throwing it into the lake?' he replied: 'I don't know!
+I really don't know! There was no reason why I should have killed
+her!'" Here, the Assistant District Attorney waxed violent. He pounded
+emphatically upon the jury-box rail. "Is that the answer an innocent
+man would make? Is it? Can we, as citizens engaged in meting out
+justice, possibly free a man who is not himself convinced of his own
+innocence? How can there remain the slightest doubt but that somewhere
+in the chill waters of Lake Cayuga floats submerged the ghastly
+remains of the young wife Peter Thatcher so ruthlessly slew in order
+that he might return to the obviously depraved woman he really loved!
+Are we to permit this? You have noticed that the Defense is based only
+upon one detail: that the forces of Nature have prevented us from
+establishing the missing corpse. With the body of the woman, we would
+have a clear case. _But_, are we so blind, so idiotic, so unwilling to
+be intelligent that we must, like Doubting Thomas, peer into the very
+wounds? Cannot even a child perceive that a murder has been committed
+and that the perpetrator has been apprehended and brought to justice?
+This man, Peter Thatcher, claims that he loved his wife and that she
+loved him. If this is so, and he did not brutally murder her, I ask the
+Defense just one thing: _Where is Anita Hunt Thatcher?_"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The jury went out on September the second. They remained locked up for
+five and a half hours. During this time, I was taken back to my cell
+where my lawyer, Mr. Bristol, gave me a good talking to.
+
+"You see," he ranted. "What did I tell you? When the District Attorney
+asked you if you killed her, you should have denied it!"
+
+"But how do I know I didn't?" I asked him.
+
+"How do you know you did?" he countered sourly. "It's a good thing that
+they're not entitled to convict without establishing the body ... or
+you'd be sunk!"
+
+I looked up into Bristol's face anxiously. "Can't they do anything to
+me?"
+
+The lawyer pulled at the roots of his hair and rolled his eyes upward
+in despair. "Don't be an ass, Thatcher! Anything can happen if the
+jury wants it to. If they take a fancy to you or believe that you're
+innocent; the State can produce a hundred bodies, your signed and
+notarized confession, even a picture of you committing the crime! You'd
+still be acquitted!" He began to pace the floor distractedly. I really
+believe that he was more nervous about the verdict than I was.
+
+This might be a good time to mention how I happened to engage Mr.
+Bristol to handle my defense. He came to me, highly recommended by my
+old friend Mrs. Michaelson, who was taking a great interest in the
+case. Knowing very well that I had never had any large amount of ready
+cash, she informed me that Bristol would be willing to represent me
+without a retainer. I gratefully clutched at this opportunity, you
+may be sure; and I at once engaged him. However, Mrs. Michaelson's
+information proved quite inaccurate. Before the trial came up on the
+calendar of Judge Foley, Counsellor Bristol was in possession not only
+of four hundred dollars of my money, but of the deed to my home as well.
+
+I did not begrudge him this. First of all, I knew that with Anita
+gone, I could never bring myself to enter that house again. Under its
+roof brooded a secret which I might never be able to uncover. Every
+nook and cranny of the place would taunt me. If I tried to live there
+in the future, I would most certainly go mad. In the event that I was
+exonerated of the charges against me, I was only too keenly aware that
+my life could not continue without some radical change of course.
+Ithaca would never accept me again; there were bound to be people who
+would think me guilty; and my business was sure to suffer commensurate
+losses. Then, too, I would be faced with memories there: persons who
+had known her, walls which had once enclosed her, shops she had been
+accustomed to patronize.
+
+It was of no use, you see. Anita's passing carried me along as though
+in an unbreakable death hold; and so bewildered was I, that I was
+almost wishing that I would not be acquitted. I would be at a loss what
+to do.
+
+Of course the people from my home town were all very nice to me. Mrs.
+Michaelson and Doctor Turnbull and several others came down to see
+me, bringing little gifts of candy and cigarettes, and trying their
+utmost to cheer me up. But these few were really the only friends I
+had. To most of Ithaca's inhabitants, I was merely a familiar face, an
+inanimate object that fetched what they demanded, like a retriever.
+
+The newspapers did not make much of the case. On the evening of August
+21st, the day of my arrest, a short column was all that appeared in the
+New York City sheets. The local paper, of course, came out with banner
+headlines which read: DRUGGIST HELD FOR HOMICIDE. In the sub-headings,
+and there were fully four of them, came the usual journalistic
+hyperboles, and reading about myself and my affairs was quite puzzling.
+Yes, indeed. To my amazement, I was described as prosperous, handsome
+and popular! My little house and unpretentious grounds were declared
+an estate! In fact, the only thing that the papers did not grossly
+exaggerate and distort out of all proportion was Anita's loveliness.
+"The body of beautiful Anita Thatcher has not as yet been recovered,"
+the _Journal-News_ announced, "but the police are confident that within
+twenty-four hours ... etc., etc...."
+
+While my mind wandered back over the events that had transpired since
+my sudden arrest, my lawyer continued to pace up and down, striking his
+hands together frequently and muttering under his breath. "Yes," he
+would reiterate, as though to convince himself, "they're not entitled
+to convict you without a _corpus delicti_. How can there possibly be a
+conviction for murder without proof that someone died?" He came to a
+halt in front of me and looked down at me as I lay full-length upon the
+cot. I could see that his eyes were troubled. "The worst they could do
+would be to find you guilty of manslaughter. They haven't established
+the weapon; neither have they proved premeditation. But juries are
+funny," he went on, shaking his head dubiously from side to side. "They
+do what they want."
+
+"Oh," I murmured, although I could not understand why that should
+be permitted. It did not seem quite right that humans should judge
+humans and wield the power of life and death which, according to the
+theologians, should be vested solely in Divinity.
+
+"Blackman scored a good point," glumly admitted my attorney, "when he
+demanded to know the whereabouts of your wife. I'd give a thousand
+dollars to know that! Look, Thatcher, can't you try and think...."
+
+I sighed wearily. He had asked me the same thing at least ten times
+before. "It's no use. I've tried, Mr. Bristol. There was absolutely no
+reason for her to disappear. Besides ... how about that blood?"
+
+Bristol grunted his disappointment. "Yes, that's right. I keep
+forgetting. Oh, no doubt she's dead all right. But who killed her? You
+didn't."
+
+"No?" I asked earnestly.
+
+"I give up! You're impossible, man! How in hell can I defend you if you
+talk like that?" The lawyer strode angrily to the cell door and shouted
+for the turnkey to let him out.
+
+"Are you going up?" I asked disinterestedly. The way I was feeling
+then, I didn't care what he did.
+
+"I suppose so," was the vexed reply. "The jury can't stay out much
+longer. There's a rumor circulating in the court that they stand eight
+to four for acquittal. But you know how those things are. Only God and
+the jury can verify it."
+
+When the cell door had clanged shut behind him and his footsteps had
+died away in the distance, I got up from the cot and began to pace a
+bit myself. I felt utterly miserable. Anita's face kept coming back to
+haunt me. Although I could not be certain that I was guilty, I felt
+like a murderer. I felt like one of those ugly newspaper portraits
+plastered under, above and between the lurid headlines I had so often
+read during the quiet evenings in my garden. I began to think that
+I _must_ have killed her. For I had taken a life once before, if
+you remember. Was it not logical to suppose that I had plunged the
+carving-knife into Anita just as I had done to the German boy a year
+before?
+
+But why?
+
+Why indeed! Must there be a reason for everything, I asked myself. If I
+had worn my uniform would I have been legally entitled to kill Anita?
+If the knife had not been a carving-knife, but a trench-knife or a
+bayonet stamped: PROPERTY OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, would I now
+be freed? Would Carter have nodded his head and the Sarge patted me on
+the back?
+
+These hysterical thoughts, these unanswerable questions, these
+incoherent emanations of a tortured brain kept me occupied while I
+waited for twelve strange men to decide my fate.
+
+But, unbelievable as it sounds, I was not so much interested in the
+verdict--which might even mean my execution--as I was in finding out
+whether or not I had been instrumental in bringing about my beloved
+wife's end. That she was dead, I had no doubt. But was I her murderer?
+
+Footsteps sounded in the corridor. They approached and stopped before
+my cell. "Come on, Thatcher," I heard the turnkey say. "The jury's come
+in." When, at last, he had delivered me into the custody of two tall
+deputies, he added: "Good luck, buddy. And whatever it is, take it
+standing up."
+
+"Gentlemen, have you reached a verdict?"
+
+"We have, Your Honor."
+
+"Please read it."
+
+The sound of a throat being cleared reached my ears through a peculiar
+ringing noise I was unable to catalogue. The courtroom began to spin
+before me and only a vague impression of strange faces and dark wooden
+benches remains even now.
+
+"We, the jury, find the Defendant, Peter Thatcher...."
+
+I took it standing up.
+
+
+
+
+                              PART THREE
+
+                               THE FRUIT
+
+
+Prison! I spent eighteen years of my life there. Only it wasn't life,
+nor even an existence. Without exaggeration, I think that I can
+justly call it hell. For while my physical body was hammering away at
+unyielding bars and at the bare walls which held me captive, my mind
+bruised as it battered itself upon its own uncertainty. By this, I
+do not mean to corroborate the press statements which suggest that I
+possess "the warped mind of a killer." I know that I am not insane; but
+the mark of those years can never be erased.
+
+Unfortunately, there is no way I can find to adequately describe
+my suffering. But then I am reasonably certain that even the great
+Russian masters of tragedy--Tolstoi, Maxim Gorki, Dostoievski--would
+be quick to perceive the emptiness of their words in the telling of
+my story and would probably throw down their pens in despair. So I
+will say again that it was simply hell ... the hell of living with
+my own self and hating it; and tormenting myself with hopelessly
+unsolvable problems. Even the war that I had managed to survive, with
+its ever-present threat of pain or death, cannot be compared to the
+eighteen years I was imprisoned. And that, you will admit, coming from
+me, is saying something!
+
+By far my favorite book since I first stumbled upon it at the age of
+twelve or thirteen in my father's library, is Dumas' masterpiece, _The
+Count of Monte Cristo_. I have read it through many, many times and
+have never grown tired of it. Even during my term at Sing Sing, I took
+it out of the prison library at least four or five different times. My
+cellmates, Bernie Dunbar and "Cupid" Moran, commented upon this. "Say,
+Pete, ain't that the one you had out last year?" I admitted that it was
+and persuaded Bernie to read it. "Cupid," after I had given him a brief
+synopsis of the plot, disgustedly refused to "waste his time with such
+crap." This rather surprised me. I remembered that "Cupid" was in for
+life. However, he assured me in no uncertain terms that the Chateau
+d'If was no worse than some of the "cans" he had been in; that Dantes
+was a fool for not having hired a smart "mouthpiece" who might have
+been able to "spring him on a writ"; and that he had never heard of
+anyone getting by with "a gag like playing dead." But Bernie liked the
+book very much.
+
+And while my hair did not turn gray and I grew no long beard and I did
+not spend all of my leisure hours plotting an escape, I feel that I had
+very much in common with Edmond Dantes. Both of us had left a woman on
+the outside; both of us had been in love. I think, though--and in all
+fairness to Dumas' hero--that I suffered the more; for his girl still
+lived while mine was dead. Moreover, Dantes was not an alleged slayer.
+
+How often did I thump my forehead and try to jar from it some seemingly
+unimportant fact which might establish either my innocence or my
+guilt! It would not have made much difference if a jury believed ...
+just as long as I did.
+
+I had better explain why, since my sentence only called for a maximum
+of fifteen years, I served three in addition. These were imposed upon
+me for my part in a scheme to break out. Although I feverishly desired
+freedom--if for no other reason but to find out whether or not I had
+really killed Anita--I had no desire to brave the inevitable peril
+of getting shot. Besides, the plan as it was explained to me by Paul
+Comstock and "Cupid," seemed utterly foolhardy and impossible. But
+"Cupid" threatened to "push my face in" if I refused to do what he
+asked and, remembering that this cellmate of mine had been a prominent
+gunman in underworld circles, I reluctantly agreed to help out.
+
+It happened that Bernie Dunbar was nearing the end of his stretch. On
+December 18th--I think it was in the year 1926--he was scheduled to be
+released. The plan was that he should purchase a speedboat, with funds
+"Cupid's" mother would provide, and station himself as close to the
+prison as possible during the week immediately following Christmas. The
+theory that the guards were paying little attention to the river during
+the cold weather seemed to assure them of an easy escape. It would
+prove a cold swim, but the two were determined to take a chance.
+
+I never found out just how they planned to get out of the prison and
+down to the river. It seemed unfeasible, what with all the high walls,
+the flood-lights and the guard-towers; and I guess they didn't trust me
+enough to tell. When I asked "Cupid," he merely winked significantly
+and announced that "five hundred berries goes a long way." Hence, long
+having been a bookworm, I imagined stealthy slinking in the shadows
+of the walls, wholesale slaughter of guards with smuggled pistols
+equipped with silencers, and lightning, one-minute changes into prison
+officials' uniforms.
+
+I was not to take part in the actual escape--for which I was inwardly
+thankful. My reward was to be a crafty underworld lawyer who would
+appeal my case gratis or pull some mysterious political strings with
+the Parole Board. In either case, they told me, I could not fail "to be
+out in no time." It occurred to me that if this was so, it was curious
+that Bernie, "Cupid" and Paul were in prison at all. But I was shrewd
+enough to keep my mouth shut. Except for Bernie--who, by the way, never
+purchased the boat--they are in prison yet.
+
+However, since I was needed in the scheme, I had no choice in the
+matter. At a given hour, I was to faint or otherwise act very ill. If
+necessary, I was to thrust a finger down my throat so that I would
+vomit. When the guards came to remove me to the infirmary, the machine
+of escape was to be put into action.
+
+"You don't need to worry none," "Cupid" laughed when I expressed the
+fear that there would be shooting in the cell. "Them guards what
+are coming are O.K. They're wise and they'll take the count like a
+gymnasium cowboy with a ten-spot in his glove. Just do like we told you
+and it'll be as smooth as silk. Yeah. Smooth as silk."
+
+Well, it went smooth as silk. The night arrived and I played sick and
+the guards came and "Cupid" tried to slug them. Two minutes later,
+"Cupid" was removed to the prison infirmary instead of me. I was
+placed in solitary confinement and, since the one guard "Cupid" had
+managed to hit suffered a slight concussion, I was made to serve three
+additional years. Paul Comstock, whom "Cupid" was to have released
+after dispensing with the guards, was never discovered to be a part of
+the plot. This seemed to me to be rather unfair. I drew the conclusion
+that Justice was not alone blind, but stupid as well.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Prison, or at least the one I was in, was not very much like the
+movies, books and plays would have you believe. They would have you
+look upon it as a living death, with the idea of hoping to discourage
+potential criminals from embarking upon dishonest careers. This is
+not true. In all of my eighteen years, I saw no deliberate cruelty.
+True, I saw a few men handled roughly upon occasion; but in every
+case this treatment was merited. In Sing Sing, perhaps due to Warden
+Lawes' admirable innovations, no man is abused if he behaves himself,
+and no guard will molest a prisoner without justification. Moreover,
+life is made as bearable for the inmates as possible. Vocations are
+taught, athletics encouraged, and conditions are made as sanitary and
+as pleasant as yearly appropriations will permit.
+
+Of course the absence of women companions makes men restless and
+unhappy. Sex preys upon the minds of the prisoners far more than the
+sins they are being punished for and the fact that they are no longer
+free men. Very often insanity results, or perversions and unclean
+habits are substituted for the normal act of intercourse. This, sadly,
+is a prevalent practice in all penal institutions and there is nothing
+that can be done about it. Pains are taken, of course, to segregate
+those men who have succumbed to various forms of sexual perversion; but
+it is not rare that a prisoner who begins his sentence normal, ends up
+quite the reverse. This, in my own humble opinion, is the greatest
+problem prison officials have still to face.
+
+The desire for women is intensified by the knowledge that they are
+beyond reach. For myself, I make no pretence that I am of a higher
+moral fabric than other men. At first I thought that I would lose my
+mind, so violent was my need for a woman. And in my head, melodramatic
+as it may sound, there seemed to be a constant beating of drums,
+throbbing pains that grew more acute and frequent as weeks slipped by.
+Then, set it down as madness, Gilberte came to me. I tried to fight
+her memory as she emerged from the obscurity into which my idiocy had
+plunged her. As I lay on my hard bunk, I tried desperately to replace
+her vision by thinking of Anita. But Anita, I knew, was dead and during
+these spells I found it difficult to remember what she looked like.
+
+So, in a semi-conscious state, I felt Gilberte's hand touch my brow and
+I would suddenly find myself back in France, in the hospital garden.
+The odor of the flower beds filled my nostrils once more, superimposed
+upon the fumes of antiseptics and the stench of decaying flesh. In
+that trance would I relive many moments and over and over would I
+succumb to the beauty of that one mistake we made.
+
+In the morning when I awakened, I felt much refreshed. I no longer
+cared that I was in prison for I knew that the dream would come again;
+this became an obsession with me. But I came to dread the days; my mind
+was preoccupied with thoughts of Anita.
+
+This is what makes of prison the hell I have named it. Naturally, I
+consider my own case the most harrowing, but it is very possible that
+many other convicts suffered equally--if for some other reason. For
+prison forces men to live with themselves and with their own dark
+thoughts. It removes the healing ointment of outside diversions:
+people, changes of scene, any number of things which might help men to
+forget the past. Now, you can understand why it was doubly bad in my
+particular case. There was also this: I could not convince myself that
+I had really murdered my wife, and there was no way I could uncover
+the truth--my innocence or my guilt--while locked up in a cell.
+
+All through those eighteen years--from the time I went in at the age of
+twenty-eight, until I grew to be forty-six--I was constantly plagued
+by the need of knowing the truth. In the prison shop, no matter what
+job was assigned to me, I took no interest. No activity could provide
+the answer I so fervently craved. In the yard, the mess hall, the
+cell-block, Anita's face followed me.
+
+My cellmate, Bernie Dunbar, tried his best to drive out my morbid
+thoughts. He was a very young man, two or three years my junior. His
+face was tanned and handsome and, even after eight years, he had not
+developed what the novelists are pleased to term "prison pallor." His
+crime was that of robbery and assault with a deadly weapon.
+
+"It wasn't really deadly," Bernie told me, "unless you can call a
+blank-cartridge pistol a deadly weapon. I stuck up a drugstore. I
+didn't want to hurt anybody. All I wanted was dough. But when I told
+the fellow behind the counter to open up the safe, the damned fool
+started yelling for the cops. Well, what could I do? Stand there and
+get pinched? I conked him with the butt of the thing and he took a
+nose-dive."
+
+I made the observation that such a blow might easily cause death. Being
+myself a druggist, I felt that I should take sides against Bernie.
+Consequently, when he sighed, shrugged helplessly and asked, "Well,
+what would _you_ have done?" I forgot that he was putting me in _his_
+position and replied, "I would have shouted for the police, too." But,
+come to think of it, I do not believe I would have done any such thing.
+Always having carefully preserved my health, undoubtedly I would have
+opened the safe.
+
+Bernie's method in trying to comfort me was to give detailed accounts
+of what awful fates awaited many of the other prisoners. He seemed well
+acquainted with the other inmates of the prison and, in the course
+of three or four years, succeeded in telling me many ghastly tales.
+Although he assured me that the stories were all true, I thought some
+of them sounded somewhat extreme and implausible.
+
+"You know that guy, Barstowe, in the death house? He chopped his mother
+and father to pieces with an axe. He wanted the insurance money, I
+guess. And to make it look like someone else had done it, he chopped
+off one of his own hands. He would have got away with it too, only the
+damned fool left his finger-prints all over the handle of the thing."
+
+Then: "You know Middleton? He poisoned his girl only she didn't die.
+Was he burned up! She testified in court and he's in here for twenty
+years. He told me that he wouldn't have minded serving time, if he had
+done the job right."
+
+Also: "You know Frank Juliano? As soon as he's finished his stretch
+here, they've got something else to pin on him. Say, if that boy _ever_
+gets out of jail, it'll be a miracle. And you, kicking about your
+troubles! Why, any day they might find out you didn't knock her off and
+you'll get sprung. But that guy has _nothing_ to look forward to!"
+
+One day "Cupid," who was usually silent, broke into the conversation.
+"Yeah? And look at me. I'm here for life. Of course that don't mean
+forever. I may get paroled in about fifteen or twenty years. But what
+the hell. I'll be sixty years old! What in Christ's name can a guy do
+when he's sixty?"
+
+I pretended to sympathize with "Cupid." So did Bernie, for that matter.
+But in my heart I believed that the world was much better off with
+"Cupid" under lock and key. He was one of those habitual cases. He
+was possessed of an inhuman courage that was almost brutishly stupid.
+Bullets, police, and fellow criminals failed to impress him; for
+"Cupid" was not intelligent enough to be afraid. Once released, he
+was certain to re-embark upon his life of crime. And his record, at
+the time I knew him, was literally dotted with robberies, killings,
+kidnappings and terms in innumerable penitentiaries. You may be sure
+that I took pains never to get on the wrong side of this one-man crime
+wave.
+
+But, despite all Bernie's efforts, I could not forget. Often at night I
+would have nightmares in which Anita's body would suddenly materialize
+before me, bloody and full of gaping wounds. Twice, in the throes of
+these horrible dreams, I rolled off the upper bunk, injuring myself
+considerably on the cement floor of the cell. Bernie, sympathetic, was
+gracious enough to change bunks with me, permitting me to take the
+coveted lower. Even after the change, the nightmares continued. The
+first night I occupied my new bed, I rolled off again. The fall, from
+less altitude, did not hurt me much, but it woke up Cupid. He hoisted
+himself out of bed, seized me roughly by the front of my undershirt,
+and dealt me a heavy blow on the point of my jaw. Although I landed on
+my bunk, I was unconscious for over a minute. When I came to, "Cupid"
+jerked me to my feet and waved his big ham of a fist under my nose.
+
+"Spoil my night's sleep again, you little son of a bitch, and I'll pin
+your ears back!"
+
+The dreams kept returning each night, but I made sure that I wouldn't
+fall again. I slept with one wrist caught in the framework of the bunk.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Anita's body was never found. Several bodies were discovered floating
+in the lake by the police during the years, but not one of them in
+any way resembled her. Obviously, without the corpse, no hint as to
+the identity of her slayer could be investigated; and there was no
+reason why any other opinion should be formed but that I had committed
+the crime. Accordingly, after the first year of my incarceration, my
+lawyer, Mr. Bristol, lost all interest in the case. No appeal was ever
+made in my behalf.
+
+Incidentally, I sold my store, too. With the money I got from The
+Great Eastern Chain, I engaged the services of a private investigation
+bureau. This organization unearthed nothing whatever and, when my
+capital was exhausted, they had the colossal cheek to visit me in
+prison and inform me that they believed me guilty. This made me very
+angry. I would not have minded them telling me this if they could have
+shown some sort of proof. I was spending every cent I had in the world
+to find out--if only for my own satisfaction--that I was innocent;
+or--if only to rid myself of doubt--that I was guilty.
+
+Late in the year 1930, Doc Turnbull paid me his last visit. It had
+been the old man's habit to come once each year to see me. Usually,
+it was during the summer--that being the only time he could get away
+from Ithaca. "Sure, son, it's like a vacation. I haven't a relative
+in the world, thank God, except Sarah. And, well, she's not exactly a
+relative. She's my wife. So the only one I can visit is you."
+
+In spite of Doc's gruff dismissing of sentiment, I am sure that he
+thought of me as a son. Through the wire screen of the visiting-room,
+his homely words of wisdom did much to relieve the great weight I
+carried.
+
+"Boy, you're looking through field glasses the wrong way. Know what
+I mean? Hell, no one ever got to first base in this old ball game
+by living in the past. To hell with yesterday, I say! Why, son, do
+you know how many men I've killed since I began practicing medicine?
+Practicing is right! I've been practicing for forty-three years! But
+does that bother me?"
+
+"But Doc," I said, "if I only knew whether I did it or not! You know I
+loved Anita and...."
+
+"I don't think you did do it, Pete. But what's the use of thinking
+about it? No one will ever find out about it now. Too much water has
+passed under the bridge. Forget it. You're serving time. It won't be
+long now until you'll be let out. Think of that."
+
+"I am."
+
+"Good. It's only seven years more ... less than that, if you skip
+Sundays. Why hell, it took me seven years to cure one case alone. The
+fellow was an alcoholic. Wouldn't let old demon rum alone. Do you know
+what my treatment was?"
+
+"No."
+
+"I kept drinking his stuff. Never left him much of anything. Gradually,
+he got used to less and less until...." Here, Doc commenced to chuckle.
+"... I had to take the cure myself."
+
+Through him, I learned what little there was to know about Ithaca. "You
+know that Mrs. Michaelson had another heart attack? Third one, Pete.
+No, nothing serious yet. And say, you ought to see what they've done
+to your store! More chrome plate in it than a barber-shop! Can you
+beat it, they sell perfume and _books_! I'm dealing at Ray Cavender's
+now. Hate to do it, but what can a poor doctor do when he's got some
+prescriptions to be filled? Those Great Eastern chumps only know how
+to make sandwiches and sodas. And, oh yes! Remember Leo Carpenter with
+the blonde moustache that thought he was a doctor? Well, he's not
+practicing any more, I hear. He went to Vienna shortly after his old
+man died, you know. Said he was going to study under some of those
+foreign fakers. Well, Carpenter is writing books now. Medical books. I
+got one but I can't figure out what it's all about! Every other word is
+in Latin or Greek or some such uncivilized tongue! And the footnotes!
+One page text, three pages footnotes! But let me see, there was
+something else I wanted to tell you.... Sure, I know! Jackie Mackintosh
+is in reform school! That kid is a regular Jesse James! He robbed three
+Ithaca stores last summer and a grocery in Owego. They caught him,
+though, and he confessed."
+
+As he left me that last time, his parting words were: "Now don't forget
+that there is a future coming, Pete. Turn those old field glasses
+around and look ahead. You're still a young man ... compared with me!
+And I'm still looking ahead, you bet! There's plenty of practicing left
+to do before I can sit back and consider myself a perfect undertaker!
+Why, I expect to live to be a hundred!"
+
+A month later I learned that he was dead.
+
+Now, whenever I think of old Doc Turnbull, my eyes dim with tears. He
+was such a fine person. The two of us got along so well together that I
+like to think that it was only an accident of birth which prevented us
+from being father and son. Yes, I loved that old man; and if there is
+such a place as heaven, I know that he's there.
+
+There is little more to be said about the years I spent in prison.
+For the most part they were dull, each day exactly like the one
+before, with routine blunting the memory, fortunately. Contrary to the
+accepted idea of scratching off the days and even the half-days on the
+calendar, I did no such thing. Prisoners--I think I am safe in the
+generalization--prefer to forget about time. Their terms seem to pass
+more quickly if they do not keep themselves conscious of it.
+
+But if, because I have given so little space to my life in prison, you
+get the erroneous impression that I did not miss so much, remember that
+while I paced back and forth across twelve feet of cell, radio made its
+initial appearance in the American home; motion pictures were greatly
+improved and, at length, made to speak; and Harding, Coolidge, Hoover
+and Franklin Roosevelt rested their troubled heads on White House
+pillows. Yes, and much more than that. Came the boom times of '27 and
+'28, the stock-market crash and the subsequent depression. Lindbergh
+flew to Paris, Byrd to the Polar regions. European governments were
+overthrown. Women's skirts grew shorter and longer and then shorter
+again. Henry made a lady out of Lizzie. Buildings were erected higher
+than the Woolworth. Fashion decreed that even portly matrons bob their
+hair. Indeed, the very map of the earth changed during those eighteen
+years!
+
+Prohibition gave birth to rackets, put teeth into gangdom and lined
+their pockets with money--before Roosevelt's administration decided
+to balance the budget. Dillinger played hide and seek. Hauptmann died
+in the Chair. Bridge became the nation's pastime. Hitler removed his
+corporal's chevrons. O'Neill managed to get some of his plays produced
+and Sinclair Lewis tapped out a book or two. Gertrude Ederle swam the
+Channel. Garbo demanded screen credit. Ice-boxes were made to freeze
+without ice, stoves to burn without gas. Dollar bills grew smaller in
+size as in purchasing power.
+
+To this very day I have not seen the George Washington Bridge, the
+Holland Tunnel to Jersey, or been inside the Music Hall. I did manage
+to catch a glimpse of the towering Empire State, but only from a great
+distance.
+
+One day the warden sent for me and when I came into his office he
+showed me his desk calendar. I saw that it was 1937 and September and a
+Tuesday. Then he gave me a good cigar, asked me to sit down, and talked
+to me for a long time.
+
+The next morning, I walked through the prison gates a free man, rather
+timidly blinking my eyes at a strange world.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The first thing I did when I got out was to take a train for Ithaca. I
+was fully cognizant of the fact that I no longer had connections there.
+Doc Turnbull was dead and so was Mrs. Michaelson. However, there was
+nowhere else to go and, had I not been so determined to find out the
+truth of things, I really believe I would have turned about-face and
+begged the Warden to take me in again.
+
+Here I was, penniless almost and without a friend, dead set on finding
+out about something that had happened fully eighteen years before.
+But, although it appeared a foolish notion and utterly pointless, I
+found myself irresistibly drawn to the scene of the crime. Of course I
+realized that if the police, lawyers and the private detectives I had
+hired could unearth nothing, it was vain of me to think that I might
+succeed where they had failed. Nevertheless, I bought my ticket for
+Ithaca.
+
+There was one emotion I had which authors have described truthfully.
+Even after several hours, when the novelty of freedom was wearing
+off, I imagined that people were staring at me. It was decidedly an
+uncomfortable feeling and I felt very guilty. I had all I could do to
+assure myself that I had a right to liberty and that I was now once
+again as much a part of the social scheme of things as anyone else. But
+eyes continued to bore little holes into my back. Heads that turned, I
+was sure were turning to stare at me.
+
+Then I realized that it was my clothes. My shoes were prison-made and
+a size too large. My hat and stiff collar were hopelessly out of date.
+Therefore, although the train was just pulling into the station, I
+decided to wait in Ossining until the next one came along. I had a
+little money--about forty odd dollars--and a small clothier's shop
+across the street beckoned to me.
+
+"Yes? And what can I do for you, sir?"
+
+"I want almost everything."
+
+"Ah! The works?"
+
+"The works."
+
+"Come this way."
+
+And half an hour later I emerged, my appearance altered. Though the
+forty dollars represented all the money I possessed in the world, I had
+spent sixteen of it. Anything was better than being stared at.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Coming back to my home town after so long an absence brought a mist to
+my eyes. I thought of Odysseus in Homer's epic, returning to Ithaca
+and Penelope. I remembered the poem well because we had been forced to
+study it at Ithaca High. Well, I was returning to Ithaca, all right;
+but I had done no wandering, certainly; and there was no Penelope
+weaving and waiting for me. That death shroud had been finished years
+and years ago.
+
+There weren't many changes in the station, I noticed as I stepped from
+the coach. There was a fresh coat of paint on the long row of wooden
+freight warehouses; and the bricks of the waiting-room had lately been
+sandblasted; but that was all.
+
+I walked up State Street toward the center of town. Ithaca had grown.
+On many blocks which, in my time, had been devoted to homes, were
+stores. Of course, many of the older markets and shops were familiar to
+me, but State Street, as a whole, was disappointing.
+
+Ahead of me stretched the main thoroughfare, bordered on either side
+by restaurants, two motion-picture palaces and department stores. Only
+when it curved sharply up the hill toward the Cornell campus, was it
+familiar. There, scattered beyond the few garage buildings, were houses
+I knew. People I had once known lived in them.... But no. Probably not
+any more. More likely they had retreated before the expanding business
+area to the still lovely portions over-looking the lake.
+
+As I neared the corner where my store had been, I felt a stranger,
+excommunicated, forgotten. The faces milling around me, going in and
+out of the markets, were strange faces, and somehow I imagined that
+they looked at me aggressively. I went along, half-expecting at any
+moment that someone would recognize me and call out my name. But no one
+did.
+
+It was then that I clumsily stumbled over a little boy who was
+squatting at the curb, rolling some toy or other near the edge of
+the sidewalk. I picked him up, made certain that he was unhurt, and
+assisted him in dusting off his sailor suit.
+
+"You owe me a soda!" the child shrilled pompously. "You knocked me down
+and now you'll have to treat me, mister."
+
+I patted him on the head and started to walk away. The little fellow
+followed me closely. "Pay up or go to jail," he declared.
+
+"All right," I said quickly. "Come along."
+
+I took him by the hand and continued toward the store. Its
+metamorphosis was complete. The front of the building was a solid
+mass of show-window, in which were neatly arranged books, perfumery,
+tobacco-humidors, soap and cameras. Placards announced "special"
+luncheons, sales on toilet articles and giant malted milks. In one
+corner of the window, unobtrusively printed on a little cardboard cut
+in the shape of a mortar and pestle, were the words: "Prescriptions
+Filled By Experts." A huge neon sign above the show-window kept
+spelling out:
+
+                           THE GREAT EASTERN
+                             DRUG COMPANY
+
+"You can get swell ones in here for a dime, mister," the little fellow
+told me as he drew me up to the expensive black and silver soda
+fountain. "I'll take a frosted chocolate," he commanded the youth in
+the neat white jacket who came to wait on us. "And don't be stingy with
+the whipped cream!"
+
+The clerk grinned and then turned to me. "And what will you have, sir?"
+
+"Me? Oh, I don't care for anything, thanks." As the young man started
+away, glass in hand, I called him back. "Is there anyone here who can
+tell me where I'd be likely to find a party named Tom Murphy?"
+
+"You mean Mr. Murphy, our store manager? You'll find him at the
+prescription counter in the back. The crippled gentleman with the dark
+moustache."
+
+I followed his finger and immediately recognized my former assistant.
+This _was_ a stroke of luck. It had been a long-shot, my asking for
+him. I had had no idea he worked there.
+
+"Here's the money for the soda," I told my diminutive companion. "I've
+got to see someone." I slid a quarter along the counter and made my way
+to the back of the store. I heard the child's words of thanks, muffled
+by his noisy sipping at a soda straw.
+
+Tom Murphy did not look up as I approached. He was busy checking over
+some figures on a sheet of wrapping paper. The only radical change in
+his appearance was the moustache which, obviously, he had cultivated
+to lend him a professional air. He looked much older, naturally. When
+he had worked for me he had been only seventeen. That would make him
+thirty-five.
+
+"Hello, Tom," I said quietly.
+
+Slowly Murphy lifted his eyes from the paper to a level with mine. He
+frowned a little and I could tell that he did not know who I was. "You
+are acquainted with me?"
+
+I laughed. "Tell me you don't know!"
+
+"Can't say I do. But your voice sounds...." He stopped suddenly and
+leaned forward to inspect me more closely. Recognition dawned and the
+pencil dropped from his fingers. "Why ... why ... Mr. Thatcher! I ...
+I...."
+
+I am positive that it was fear I read in his eyes although I can't
+imagine why he should have been afraid. We had always been the best of
+friends. Maybe he felt as though he were standing face to face with
+some ghost; but more likely he suddenly remembered what it was I was
+supposed to have done. Murder is a terrible crime and the people who
+commit it are not looked upon as human beings--no matter how much their
+action might have been justified. The taking of a life--unless it be
+during wartime, making the deed not only legal but noble as well--is
+an action which at once destroys both friendships and hates. People
+neither love nor hate murderers. They don't even feel sorry for them.
+They treat them much like Murphy treated me that day in the store. Like
+a freak.
+
+I smiled disarmingly. "That's right, Tom. I guess I've changed a lot.
+I'm getting on in years, you know. But can I have a word with you?"
+
+His lips trembled a little. "But ... but I thought that.... When
+did...?"
+
+"This morning, Tom. I've finished down there."
+
+"Come on into the back room."
+
+I knew that he was reluctant to leave the front of the store. Maybe he
+was afraid to be alone with me, I don't know. If this were happening
+to me now instead of a few weeks ago, I wouldn't be at all surprised.
+Seeing the crude pictures of myself in the newspapers, I suppose I _do_
+look "haunted." But I vigorously deny the press insinuations that I
+have a criminal face, merciless eyes and an unmistakable brutish skull
+formation. The prison experts all agreed that I look somewhat weak with
+my oval-shaped head and pointed chin.
+
+The thing I wanted to find out from Murphy was if there remained anyone
+in town who had known Anita. I explained to him that I was trying to
+find out more about the whole affair. Murphy puckered his brows in
+thought. "Let me see, George Garrett!"
+
+"Garrett? Never heard of him."
+
+"Oh, yes. That's right. He moved here right after...." He stopped in
+embarrassment. "Say, Mr. Thatcher, I hope you know that I never wanted
+to testify against you at the trial. They made me do it. I...."
+
+"I know, Tom. You couldn't help it," I said.
+
+"And I never really believed you did it," he went on, trying to appear
+convinced. "I always thought she committed suicide. But maybe you'd
+rather not talk about it, eh?"
+
+"No, that's all right. I want to talk about it. I suppose everyone in
+town thought I was guilty, didn't they? Things looked kind of bad, I'll
+admit."
+
+"No, we never believed it, Mr. Thatcher. Honest we didn't. Even
+Cavender who used to be across the street said you got a raw deal.
+And you know how Cavender was. Even Leo Carpenter said you were
+innocent...."
+
+"Carpenter?" I echoed. "When did you see him? I thought he went to
+Vienna."
+
+"Oh, he was at the trial. Didn't you know?"
+
+"No," I muttered. "I didn't."
+
+"Well, maybe he was only there that one day. He left for abroad shortly
+after. He's writing books now, you know. Lives in New York six months a
+year and in Vienna the rest of the time. Doctor Fraser--you don't know
+him--says that his surgical data is very valuable."
+
+"I heard he was writing books," I said.
+
+"Funny you didn't know he was at the trial. I saw him right after they
+brought in the verdict."
+
+To this day, I don't know why I pursued the subject. Something drove
+me on--a curiosity maybe, a desire to discover just what attitude a
+man would take whose former sweetheart has been allegedly slain by his
+rival. "What did Leo have to say?"
+
+"He looked angry as the devil. He was cursing, as I remember. I heard
+him say to someone who was with him that he was positive they were
+convicting an innocent man."
+
+"He said that?" I asked in disbelief. Although the doctor and I had
+never been anything but friendly to one another, it seemed strange
+that he should adopt that attitude after I had stolen his girl. There
+was something fishy about it.
+
+"Is that all?"
+
+Murphy scratched his head. "Yes, I guess so. The fellow who was with
+him tried to comfort him, I recollect. He said that you'd never see the
+inside of a jail; that your lawyer was sure to appeal and the decision
+would be reversed. The man said, 'Of course, if they find the body ...
+in that case it might be different.' Leo was getting into his car then.
+He said something that sounded like: 'They'll never find the body'
+and drove off, leaving the man standing there. That's all I know Mr.
+Thatcher."
+
+"Thanks a lot."
+
+"Can I do anything more for you? You know that if I can be of some...."
+
+"No, I guess that's about all. Goodbye, Tom."
+
+"Going to be around town again?"
+
+"No, I guess not. But who knows?" We walked back into the store proper.
+I shook hands with Murphy and noticed that his hand was cold and his
+grip limp.
+
+Before I left Ithaca on the evening train for New York, I strolled
+around to my little house ... or what used to be my house. From a
+distance it still looked the same as I had left it; but when I reached
+the gate to the front yard I felt my heart sink. There was a noticeable
+sag to the roof as though the supporting beams had been allowed to
+rot away. The paint on both the picket fence and on the house itself
+had peeled off, leaving bare, ugly patches. And it was unoccupied. A
+chipped enamel sign informed the passerby that the property was for
+sale or rent and that information regarding it could be obtained by
+telephoning the Mervin Real Estate Company.
+
+It had been my thought to enter the place, asking permission of the
+owner in the event that someone was living in it. I would have liked
+to explore the house in hopes of stirring from my fading memory some
+dormant fact which had escaped notice. Then too, I would have welcomed
+an hour in the garden down by the lake.
+
+But looking at it a moment longer, I suddenly felt sick. My store, like
+some fickle child, no longer knew its parent. My house, my wife, my
+friends were all gone, breaking the last connecting link with the town
+of my birth.
+
+I withdrew the hand I had reached out to unfasten the gate. I turned
+back toward the station.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I will not mention where I got the gun because the pawnbroker who sold
+it to me was breaking the law and I don't want anyone to get into
+trouble on my account. My purpose in purchasing the pistol, I need
+hardly say, was to take yet one more life: my own.
+
+There are some of you who hold that suicide takes a great deal of
+courage and some to whom it appears a very cowardly act. I am not in a
+position to argue the point. I merely tell you that I no longer cared
+to live and the sooner I ceased living the better I would like it.
+
+But I did not sit down and brood like some twentieth century Hamlet. I
+did not over-dramatize my plight. I only realized that I was unhappy,
+broke, without friends or family, and with nothing whatever to look
+forward to but continued mental depression. I had read that ex-convicts
+find it extremely difficult to find positions and, although I was
+a registered pharmacist, I had no references to show a prospective
+employer.
+
+So what else was there for me to do?
+
+If I'd been young, I would no doubt have tried to hold on. When I
+was twenty, life was precious and I thoroughly enjoyed being alive.
+But remember that upon my release from prison I had just passed my
+forty-sixth birthday. You will recall the day, for that was the night
+of the Hindenburg disaster.
+
+I had given considerable thought to the subject of a suitable agent
+which would bring about my end. I did not want to suffer if I could
+possibly avoid it. I suppose that I could easily have managed to obtain
+some sort of poison but I ruled this out immediately. Only a physician
+or an apothecary can appreciate how terrible a death by poison can
+be. Of course there are any number of mythical concoctions which the
+writers of detective stories profess will result in instantaneous
+death. Well, maybe I'm wrong, but if such poisons exist or at least
+are stocked in drugstores, I have never handled any. The poisonous
+substances I have come into contact with in my work all entail a
+minimum of several minutes of intense pain while the drug stops the
+heart or eats away the organs of the body.
+
+So I chose a gun.
+
+I decided this while sitting in my tiny hotel room, just off Times
+Square. Looking around at the bare, cracked walls, the peeling plaster
+and the single, dirty window, it struck me that this was as fitting
+a room for a suicide as one would be able to find. Still, I would
+be unable to use it. Since I would, of necessity, have to procure a
+pistol, I would hardly have enough money left to stay there another
+night. I would have to die in the park, or in some alleyway.
+
+It was while I sat in that room, pondering the problem of where I might
+be able to get hold of a gun, that someone knocked on my door. I opened
+it and a girl stepped in, closing the door behind her. I gaped at her.
+
+"Hello," she smiled.
+
+"Hello," I answered her. "You must have the wrong room." I saw that she
+was well dressed and with a supple figure; her face, while not pretty,
+was pleasant and carefully made-up. "This is Room 264, you know."
+
+"I know," she laughed, revealing white, though slightly crooked teeth.
+"Well? Aren't you going to ask me to come in?"
+
+"You're in already," I observed. Then, for the first time in months, I
+felt the need of her--the need of any woman. Usually, in prison, this
+would sweep over me only once in a great while. It would last less than
+a week and then it would pass on, leaving me enervated. But now my
+fingers yearned for the feel of her and my knees grew unsteady. "Will
+you smoke a cigarette?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even.
+
+She accepted one. My hand shook a little as I held the match. Puffing
+away, she sat down on the bed, close to my chair. I could smell her
+perfume and the faint female odor of her clothes. My head swam.
+
+Of course I knew that she was a prostitute. Her presence in my room
+was merely an effort to solicit trade. But she was a woman. Mentally,
+I counted up my money. No, there would not be enough for this. The
+remaining few dollars would barely buy me a gun. I balanced the gun
+against the woman. I chose the gun.
+
+"I like you," she murmured after a moment of silence. "But that, as
+Shakespeare says, is not the question. Do you like me?"
+
+"I'm ... I'm broke," I stammered.
+
+Her face fell a little. "Well, I didn't expect to find Rockefeller in
+here, you know. I don't ask much...."
+
+"I'm sorry. I haven't a penny to spare. I won't have this room
+tomorrow," I confessed.
+
+The girl rose from the bed abruptly and started for the door. In
+desperation, I got to it first and put my back to it. "Please don't
+go," I begged. "If you only knew how much I want you to stay!"
+
+"Sorry, buddy. I'm no charity worker. You've got to lay it on the line."
+
+"Listen," I whispered hoarsely. "Don't you see? I haven't had ...
+haven't had a woman in eighteen years!"
+
+She looked at me skeptically for a second; then a curiosity came into
+her eyes. "What were you, mister?" she asked. "Priest, prisoner or
+pauper?"
+
+I told her.
+
+"I've got a brother in stir. All right. I'm a sap for falling for your
+baloney. But make it fast."
+
+"Thanks," I groaned, taking her into my arms.
+
+"Hurry up."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+In the morning I looked up Doctor Carpenter in the telephone directory.
+I located a CARPENTER L. MD with an East 70th street address and I
+called the number to ask the party's first name. It was Leo all right
+but he wasn't at home. The girl--informing me that she was the doctor's
+secretary--instructed me to call again at three o'clock. When she asked
+me to please leave my name, I hung up. I was afraid that Carpenter
+might not want to see me.
+
+Thoroughly worn out, I walked along Eighth Avenue looking for a pawn
+shop. Two places, when I entered and asked to see a revolver, demanded
+that I produce my police permit; but in the third, the old fellow
+beckoned to me to follow him to the rear. He sold me an old .38 Colt
+automatic for six dollars and threw in a box of fifty cartridges to
+boot.
+
+"Now remember, mister, I never sold you that gun, see? You never saw me
+before in all your life."
+
+"I never saw you before in all my life," I assured him. "And thanks
+loads. I won't forget it in a hurry."
+
+The old fellow threw up his hands. "Forget it! Forget it! Never mind
+remembering!"
+
+Emerging from the shop with the pistol in my pocket, I found that I
+still had four hours to kill before the doctor would be in. I wanted
+to see him before I took the fatal plunge because there was ever so
+faint a chance that he might know something which would throw light
+onto Anita's death. Tom Murphy was not a person either to imagine or to
+exaggerate. If he was telling the truth, there might be some reason
+why Carpenter insisted that I was innocent. His remark, "They'll never
+find the body," might have meant no more than a disdainful opinion of
+the police.... But it was worth trying.
+
+I don't think that I would have considered suicide had I in some way
+managed to solve the question that had been worrying my mind for so
+many years. Even if I had discovered myself guilty. For if I _had_
+murdered Anita, it must have been done in a moment of insanity, during
+which time I could not hold myself responsible for the deed. I loved
+my wife. I had had nothing whatever to gain by her death. I had not
+insured her life. I told the insurance agents who had called this to my
+attention that, in the event of Anita's death, no amount of money could
+possibly compensate me for her loss.
+
+I spent the next three hours in a movie, trying my utmost to stay
+awake. I no longer had enough for a hotel room, having given all but a
+dollar of the money remaining for the gun. Although sleep would have
+been welcome to me after the adventure of the night before, I reasoned
+that if I dozed off, I might not awaken in time to see the doctor. If I
+missed him at his home, it would mean a night of wandering the streets,
+of dozing in subways or sleeping in the park. Hence, I stayed awake by
+prodding myself each time my head drooped forward onto my chest. Also,
+I am afraid that I made a nuisance of myself by asking someone next to
+me the time every now and then.
+
+Doctor Carpenter had an apartment in a neat, two-family brownstone
+house between Park and Lexington. Entering the tiny vestibule on the
+ground floor, I saw his name on a little white card under a brass bell.
+I rang and in a few seconds, a uniformed maid ushered me into a foyer.
+
+"Is Doctor Carpenter at home?"
+
+"Is he expecting you?"
+
+I admitted that he was not.
+
+"Then it won't be possible for the doctor to see you today. He's very
+busy in the study and left word that he was not to be disturbed. Why
+don't you telephone him tomorrow morning and make an appointment?" The
+maid was young and smiled pleasantly.
+
+"But I'm a personal friend of the doctor's. I've.... I've just come in
+from out of town and...."
+
+"Oh, I see. Well, in that case, if you'll give me your name, I'll take
+it in to...." She interrupted herself suddenly and bowed to someone
+over my shoulder. I turned and saw a woman entering the front door.
+"Good afternoon, Mrs. Carpenter. The man called about the rugs. I told
+him to call later."
+
+The woman was veiled so that as she brushed past me, I could not see
+her face. "Thank you, Lily. Is the doctor in the study?"
+
+"Yes, he is, Mrs. Carpenter. Mr. Miller just left."
+
+The woman opened the door at the far end of the living-room and went
+inside. As in a trance, I moved after her. In my ears I could hear
+Lily's voice call sharply: "You can't go in there!" but I did not stop.
+The floor of the living-room was waxed and slippery and one of the
+smaller scatter rugs shot out under my feet. I recovered my balance
+and, as I was opening the door of the study, I felt the maid's arm
+touch my sleeve. I shook it off and entered the room.
+
+Doctor Carpenter was seated at a large desk near a French door that
+led out into a sort of garden or yard. He had his arm about the waist
+of the woman who stood beside his chair. For a moment, as the sunlight
+glared in my eyes, I could not make out anything more than the two
+silhouettes. Then ... I knew.
+
+Both of them looked up as the door clicked shut behind me. They had
+been talking; now they fell silent. The doctor slowly rose to his feet
+and Anita--for I was sure it was she--started back and stifled a little
+cry of fear.
+
+"Mr. and Mrs. Carpenter," I said.
+
+Just then the maid opened the door and looked toward the doctor for
+instructions. I saw him hesitate. I knew, of course, that he did not
+wish to be left with me and he opened his mouth to say something. Then
+he closed it and his shoulders sagged perceptibly. In this attitude, he
+looked old and I noticed that his hair was iron-gray.
+
+"It's all right, Lily. We don't want to be disturbed." The doctor's
+voice sounded hollow and dry. He seemed to be choking, almost.
+
+"But the man about the rugs. What will I tell him when he calls?"
+
+"Tell him ... tell him anything. And if anyone comes, have them wait
+outside."
+
+"Yes, doctor."
+
+As the maid closed the door behind her, I looked over at Anita. Somehow
+I couldn't get used to the idea that she was really there. It was
+like seeing a ghost in broad daylight. But it was the spectre who was
+afraid. Through her veil I could see wide, terror-stricken eyes.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I suppose that this story I am telling is disappointing because I am
+incapable of detailing or classifying my emotions. I do not think that
+this is my fault so much as it is the fault of the emotions. During the
+tense portions of my life they were never clearly defined and often
+I experienced many freakish feelings: combinations of two or three
+emotions at once. So far, I have given you only bare facts and left
+you to imagine the gamut I have run. Sorrow, fear, love and morbidity
+have all played important parts in my life. But--whether you choose to
+accept this statement or not--although I have often been very angry, I
+can't remember ever having hated anyone. And as I stood there in the
+study, looking across the room at the two by the desk, I did not nurse
+any hatred.
+
+Of course I know that it sounds a bit thick. I certainly had every
+reason to hate them both, and the much-publicized fact that my pocket
+contained a loaded revolver seems to indicate that I went to the
+doctor's home prepared to commit a murder. Truthfully, I did not. The
+revolver, as I have already explained, was intended only for myself.
+
+Well, if the doctor and Anita looked frightened and ashamed, I must
+have looked bewildered. Try to picture it for yourselves. Here was my
+wife ... alive! For the past eighteen years I had been mourning her
+loss. I had over-taxed my mind in attempting to pierce the heavy cloak
+of mystery which had surrounded her death.
+
+I didn't know what to think. Such a climax could not happen in real
+life! We were not characters in a book or in the movies! But, after
+the first shock of hearing her voice, I felt a great load lifted from
+my shoulders. The knowledge that I had not killed her was evidently
+the panacea for all my suffering. Soon, however, I began to recover my
+stunned faculties; I began to wonder....
+
+She had been called, "Mrs. Carpenter" by the maid. Since she wasn't
+dead, where had she been? Why hadn't she come forward at the time I was
+arrested?
+
+I was totally confused as I faced the two of them on that afternoon
+of September 9th. So stupefied was I, it was not until Anita began
+to plead with me and to pour out a tearful confession that I fully
+realized what a contemptible trick had been played upon me. I stood
+there stiffly as she tugged at my coat lapels and the picture became
+clearer gradually. I could see her sitting in the garden that evening
+many years ago. She was furious because she wanted me to sell the
+store and move to New York--which wish I had refused....
+
+"Oh, don't you understand, Peter? I've always been in love with Leo! I
+married you, yes. I know I shouldn't have done it. But you caught me at
+a time when I was too angry at him to think! I liked you, Peter. Please
+believe that! Yes, I did like you a lot. But was it my fault that I
+never loved you?"
+
+I glanced quickly at the doctor. He was slumped over his desk with his
+face buried in his hands. I could see the cords of his neck, thick and
+tight, disappearing into his wilted shirt collar. Sheets of typewritten
+manuscript had slipped to the floor unnoticed. I felt jealous of him;
+then, suddenly, a wave of pity for him drove off the first. He, too,
+must have suffered. He, too, must have been tortured mentally all those
+years I wasted away in prison. It occurred to me that it had not been
+his doing. _He_ had not wanted me to pay for a crime I never committed.
+What he had been heard saying at the trial was proof of that. But
+Anita....
+
+"Peter, you must let me explain! You've always been fair and I know
+you'll understand how I felt! I married you but I loved him." She
+pointed to Carpenter's lowered head. "I just couldn't stand being away
+from him. You know how that feels. You've been in love, haven't you?"
+
+"I loved you," I reminded her tonelessly.
+
+Yes, I had been in love with her, it was true. But she had died a
+long time ago. Besides, she was not the same. Time and the knowledge
+of her evil deed had aged her. There were gray threads mingling with
+the blonde that the hair dye had missed; there were little crow's
+feet at the corners of her eyes; she looked sallow, unhealthy, a lean
+caricature of her former self. The only familiar part of her was her
+voice. And that wasn't pretty either. How often had I heard her sob
+before!
+
+"Now I can understand why you wanted to live in New York," I heard
+myself say quietly. My ears were ringing and my voice had the curious
+quality of seeming to come from a great distance.
+
+"No, no! You mustn't believe that! I swear to you that there was never
+anything between Leo and me until after ... after...."
+
+"Until after I was convicted of killing you?"
+
+She dropped her eyes. "Please, Peter. Don't think that I planned that.
+I never intended that you should.... Do you remember the sleeping
+powder? Well, I meant to take it and I put it in my beer. But then I
+felt like swimming--you know how I used to swim off my grouches--so I
+drank what was in the other glass and I forgot to empty my own. I guess
+you drank the beer with the powder in it."
+
+I said nothing. There was still a lot of explaining to be done.
+
+"Well, I cut my foot on the sharp stones down by the lake shore. You
+know where I mean. You used to warn me about them. It was a bad gash
+and it bled a lot. I hurried to the house to bandage it. You were
+asleep, Peter. I guess it was the powder. I held an old dress to the
+cut to keep the blood from getting on the rug. Oh, I shook you and
+shook you but you wouldn't wake up! I wanted you to go for a doctor. I
+was getting faint and I was bleeding all over the furniture. Some even
+got on your clothes...."
+
+I still said nothing. Hearing her confession was like living a scene
+from life I had missed.
+
+Anita went on breathlessly. Her words tumbled out so rapidly that at
+times I could scarcely understand her. But I began to see her for the
+first time. I began to realize that there is more to a woman than a
+lovely exterior and that even a devil may wear wings.
+
+"At last I gave up and went into the kitchen. I knew that there were
+no bandages in the medicine-chest upstairs, so I began to cut strips
+from my dress to bind up my foot. Finally, I managed to fix it. That's
+how the blood got on the knife! Oh, Peter, I didn't have any idea what
+would happen when I left you that night! Really, I didn't. I was so
+angry at you for being so stubborn and I missed Leo and.... Oh, can't
+you understand?"
+
+She was bordering on the hysterical but I remained unmoved. Indeed, I
+was surprised at my own objective attitude. In the past, Anita's tears
+had never failed to impress me. Like a dog responding to his master's
+whistle, I had come running at the first sob. But not so now.
+
+"Oh, I know I did a terrible thing when I didn't come forward at the
+trial. But I was so sure you'd be freed. After the verdict I would have
+come forward, Peter ... but I thought that if the case was appealed,
+the decision would be reversed! How could you have murdered me? I
+wasn't dead. Then, right afterwards, we sailed for Vienna." She paused
+to catch her breath. "Then, too, I thought that you might interfere,
+try to take me away from Leo!"
+
+I looked toward my wife's lover. He had not moved nor had he put in a
+word. "How did the lamps get broken and the table overturned?" I asked.
+
+She acted as though she hadn't heard me ... but I knew she had. "Oh,
+please forgive me!" she wept. "It's all over now! If I had even dreamed
+that leaving you would have brought all this!"
+
+"How did the lamps get broken and the table overturned?"
+
+"Peter, tell me you forgive me! It was all a mistake, I tell you! O,
+God, I know I've done a terrible thing! If only I.... Will you, Peter?"
+
+I looked her squarely in the eyes. They were very dark blue now--almost
+coal-black in the pupils like a sick animal's. No matter what the world
+may think and no matter what the psychologists theorize, in that moment
+I was saner than I had ever been before. No dramatic haze came before
+my eyes; no fit of anger lashed me to a fury. So calm was I, that she
+never saw me take the pistol from my pocket. I held her gaze and my
+eyes did not give me away.
+
+"I forgive you, Anita," I said.
+
+Then I pressed the trigger.
+
+With the sound of the shot which echoed and re-echoed through the
+house, the doctor sprang to his feet. His eyes were almost popping from
+his head as he watched Anita slip to her knees and then drop limply to
+the floor.
+
+"My God!" he moaned.
+
+I can't remember much more than just that. Faintly, I recollect hearing
+the sound of feet running toward the room and the crash of the door
+being flung open. Also, I was conscious that there were many people
+pressing around me until I felt suffocated. But everything else is
+vague. Maybe the shell-shock malady came back for a spell.
+
+Later on, I became aware of myself while riding down to police
+headquarters in a Squad car, flanked on either side by a burly
+plainclothesman. They did not seem to be paying much attention to me
+for they were talking among themselves as though I wasn't there.
+
+"Right through the heart. He sure must have been close, too. Her dress
+was burned."
+
+"Yeah. I wonder why he croaked her?"
+
+"Oh, we'll get it out of him down at headquarters."
+
+"Don't be so sure. I think he's a nut. If he ain't, he'll play like he
+is. Christ, I'm ready to believe he is, right now! Who the hell ever
+heard of knockin' anybody off before witnesses in the dame's own house?"
+
+"Good lookin' babe, too."
+
+"Naw. She was old."
+
+"Well, we'll get a chance at this guy after the line-up."
+
+The driver of the car, evidently having seen my face in his rear-view
+mirror, called back over his shoulder. "Hey, boys. The guy's all right
+now."
+
+With that, the detectives turned to me at once. One on either side,
+they started to fire many questions. "Why did you kill her, Johnny?"
+"Was that your rod we found on the floor?" "What's your name, anyway?"
+"What was the exact time you did it?" "Where do you live?" "Ain't I
+seen you some place before?"
+
+"Yes," I answered, "I killed her. Only not then."
+
+"Not then?" they chorused. "What do you mean by 'not then'?"
+
+"I killed her, yes. But that woman has been dead for eighteen years."
+
+They both stared at me for a minute. Then one of the cops described a
+circle about his ear with one finger. The other one nodded his head
+significantly.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Dig out your law books, all you students, all you judges, all you
+members of the bar. Dust off _Corpus Juris_ and Blackstone and Wharton
+and the Constitution; try, if you can, to convict me. On the surface,
+it looks simple enough. Here I am, an ex-convict with a record of
+eighteen years in the penitentiary, and I have just shot down a woman
+in cold blood. Yes, it was in cold blood. I wasn't angry at her any
+more than I was angry at that German boy I killed back in 1918.
+
+Come on all you prosecutors! My painfully young, court-appointed
+counsel challenges the world! His briefcase is empty but for three
+little slips of paper which, he claims, are enough to break any case
+against me. Maybe he is right. Who knows? Well, whatever happens, it no
+longer matters to me. Remember that only yesterday I intended to commit
+suicide? If the case is lost you will only be doing the job for me.
+
+The District Attorney laughed at me when he visited me in jail the
+other morning. But I think he was rather worried. He secured the
+indictment easily enough ... although it might not have been so easy
+had my lawyer's plea to go before the Grand Jury been granted.
+
+"You'll get the Chair, Thatcher," he threatened. "Better let me have
+your confession and I'll see what I can do about getting you off with a
+prison sentence. I can recommend leniency, you know."
+
+"Oh, I did it, Mr. District Attorney. Why should I deny it?"
+
+"Then you are not going to plead insanity?"
+
+"I don't know what my lawyer is going to do."
+
+"It'll be easier on you if...."
+
+"See my lawyer."
+
+I was really quite calm throughout all the days of questioning and
+interviews. I imagine that all the rigamarole I was--and still
+am--being forced through would be a great strain on a person. It was
+not much of a strain on me. I had been through it before; and while my
+first trial had me trembling and biting my nails down to the quick,
+this one lacked the resulting tension. It reminded me of the pinochle
+games I used to have with Mullins and Carter and the Sarge when we
+were all of us broke and without a sou and had to play for no stakes.
+
+I have a late edition of a paper in front of me with my picture on the
+very first page. It isn't a very complimentary study of me for, you
+see, it was taken by a persistent staff photographer ... through the
+bars. But, if I do not appreciate the picture, the article accompanying
+it highly amuses me. The lead line reads: "While the alleged slayer
+of pretty Anita Thatcher paces the floor of his cell in the Tombs,
+brooding over the blood he is charged to have spilled, preparations are
+being made for the burial of his victim tomorrow afternoon...."
+
+Brooding? What an imagination! I am not at all sorry that I killed
+Anita. Should I be? Except that I was born a fool, I have her to blame
+for what I have become.
+
+In the courtroom this morning, the prosecution trotted out a score of
+witnesses in short order. By their testimony they placed me in the room
+where the crime was committed and at the time specified. This time, of
+course, the _corpus delicti_ was established and the jury learned that
+I was seen committing the crime by one witness and found with the gun
+in my hand by others.
+
+The District Attorney opened the case with a short speech that went
+something like this: "I have never seen a more open and shut case of
+murder in the first degree. We have everything--weapon, eye-witnesses
+and motive. It will be proved in this courtroom that the Defendant
+shot and killed his ex-wife because he was jealous of her marriage to
+one of the principals in the case. We will show you that the crime was
+premeditated, that the Defendant came to the apartment of the deceased
+woman with a gun in his pocket for the express purpose of carrying out
+his infamous plan of murder. We will prove to you, by means of expert
+testimony, that the bullet which ended the life of the deceased came
+from the gun belonging to the Defendant. After you have heard all the
+evidence in the case, there will remain to you only one alternative ...
+to return a verdict of Guilty."
+
+When the District Attorney had finished, my lawyer got to his feet
+and said: "The Defense has nothing it would like to say at this time."
+His immature voice rising in the court caused a titter of mirth to
+circulate. Even His Honor concealed a smile as he rapped for order.
+
+Then came the parade of witnesses, one by one. I recognized a chauffeur
+who had been parked before the doctor's door; the doorman from the
+building across the street; and a salesman who had happened to be
+passing as I entered the house. I heard Lily Pierce, the Carpenter's
+maid, testify....
+
+"Then he followed Mrs. Carpenter toward the study. I ran after him and
+said that he had no right to go in there. He didn't listen to me. He
+pushed me away and slammed the door in my face."
+
+"Did you go in after him?"
+
+"Yes, sir, I did. But when I got inside, the doctor told me that it was
+all right and not to disturb him."
+
+"I see. Tell the court, Miss Pierce. Did the doctor act as usual? Or
+did he appear nervous, excited, frightened?"
+
+"Well, he didn't seem quite himself."
+
+After many more questions, the State turned the witness over to my
+attorney for cross-examination. "No questions!" sang out the youth.
+
+As Leo Carpenter, pale and haggard, took the stand, my lawyer leaned
+over and whispered to me: "You've noticed that I haven't cross-examined
+any of the witnesses. But there's one fellow I may have to. I've got to
+establish the identity of the deceased, you know."
+
+"Doctor Carpenter," the District Attorney was saying. "You saw the
+crime being committed?"
+
+"Yes. I was there in the room," he replied. As he said this, our
+eyes met across the courtroom. I am sure that there was sympathy and
+understanding in his and the reluctant manner in which he testified on
+the stand seems to bear me out in this theory. Perhaps he felt that I
+had only taken just redress for my injuries by killing Anita.
+
+When the State had finished with the witness, my own counsel approached
+him. The prosecution rested.
+
+"Doctor Carpenter, what relation were you to the deceased woman?"
+
+He hesitated for a brief moment. "No relation whatever," he admitted.
+"Anita was Mrs. Peter Thatcher."
+
+I heard a murmur of surprise in the court and a few newspaper reporters
+tried to leave in search of telephones. Over the noise, I heard the
+next question.
+
+"You were not the husband of the deceased?"
+
+"No, I was not."
+
+"In all the eighteen years you had been living together as man and wife
+you never married her?"
+
+"No. How could I? She was Mrs. Peter Thatcher."
+
+"She was the same woman who was known to you as Anita Thatcher back in
+the year 1919?"
+
+"She is ... she was."
+
+"Very well. That is all. Will the State allow the identification of the
+deceased or shall I call more witnesses as part of the Defense?"
+
+"The State allows the identification."
+
+There was a two-hour adjournment for lunch, following which the Defense
+resumed the floor. "Your Honor," called my boy gladiator, "I have here
+three papers that I wish to offer in evidence. The first of these is
+an indictment dated in the year 1919 which states that the Defendant,
+Peter Thatcher, may be remanded to a court for trial on a charge of
+murder in the first degree. The victim's name: Anita Thatcher! The
+second of the papers is a certificate of conviction from the Tompkins
+County Court, Judge Foley presiding. It states that in the same year
+Peter Thatcher was convicted on a charge of first degree manslaughter
+for the killing of the same woman. The third paper is an affidavit from
+the Warden of the State Penitentiary at Ossining to the effect that
+Peter Thatcher, sentenced by the forementioned court, did serve the
+time specified and was formally released after having been imprisoned
+for eighteen years.
+
+"Your Honor, under Article I, Section 6 of the Constitution of this
+State which says, in part: 'No person shall be subject to be twice put
+in jeopardy for the same offence,' I demand that the Court instruct
+the jury to return a verdict of Not Guilty for the Defendant. According
+to the law, the deceased was killed by the Defendant once already; and
+he was convicted and sentenced and paid the penalty for the crime by a
+prison term which lasted from 1919 up until the present year.
+
+"The Defendant committed a legal murder. Or, have it this way, if you
+like. The Defendant, instead of committing the crime and paying the
+penalty, paid the penalty and then committed the crime. He cannot be
+tried on those charges again. In conclusion, I do not ask for clemency
+for the Defendant. I ask Justice!"
+
+As I write this final portion of my story, which I trust has explained
+those features which the press have distorted, I cannot refrain from
+smiling a little. His Honor wore such a woe-begone look of bewilderment
+when my lawyer passed the certificates to the stenographer with a
+dramatic flourish!
+
+"Let me see those papers, please," the judge demanded. The stenographer
+quickly handed them up to him. His Honor changed his glasses and, as
+he read them through, an unusual stillness pervaded the room. Really, I
+believe that of all the people who were crowded into the court, I was
+the only person who was not holding his breath.
+
+Finally, after what appeared to be an eternity, the judge looked up. He
+cleared his throat several times, fiddled with his glasses, and then
+looked over toward the prosecution's table.
+
+"Well, Mr. District Attorney," he said with a puzzled frown wrinkling
+his forehead, "what have you to say to that?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+As yet there has been no decision forthcoming. I know that the
+prosecution is tearing its collective hair, trying to find some way
+to get a conviction. My own lawyer is completely at ease. He left
+this morning for a few weeks of fishing in Maine, promising me that
+if decision is reserved too long, he'll apply for a writ of _habeas
+corpus_.
+
+But I am not impatient to be free. There still remains the problem of
+where to go.
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79047 ***