Running Sands

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this Man and this Woman in holy Matrimony....

"It was ordained for the procreation of children, to be brought up in the fear and nurture of the Lord, and to the praise of his holy Name....

"It was ordained for a remedy against sin, and to avoid fornication; that such persons as have not the gift of continence might marry, and keep themselves undefiled....

"It was ordained for the mutual society, help, and comfort, that the one ought to have of the other....

"Into which holy estate these two persons come now to be joined...."

--The Book of Common Prayer.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I "WON'T YOU WALK INTO MY PARLOUR?" 1

II YOUNG BLOOD 20

III EN GARDE, MONSIEUR! 34

IV THE APPLE OF THEIR EYE 59

V ONE ROAD TO LOVE 72

VI A MAID PERPLEXED 88

VII FIRE AND TOW 106

VIII "THE WORLD-WITHOUT-END BARGAIN" 115

IX ANOTHER ROAD 133

X "UNWILLING WAR" 156

XI DR. BOUSSINGAULT 176

XII MONTMARTRE 198

XIII WORMWOOD 215

XIV RUNAWAYS 230

XV "NOT AT HOME" 247

XVI IN THE BOIS 254

XVII THE CALL OF YOUTH 266

XVIII OUR LADY OF PROTECTION 285

XIX HUSBAND AND WIFE 304

XX HUSBAND AND LOVER 318

XXI THE MAN AND HIS GOD 333

RUNNING SANDS

I

"WON'T YOU WALK INTO MY PARLOUR?"

Stainton decided that he would go to the Metropolitan Opera House that night to hear Madama Butterfly. He did not care for operatic music, but he hoped to learn. He did not expect to meet anyone he knew, but he trusted that he might come to know someone he met. There was, at any rate, no spot in the Great American Desert, where he had found his fortune, quite so lonely as this crowded lobby of the Astor, the hotel at which he was now stopping--so he decided upon the Metropolitan and Madama Butterfly.

A page was passing, uttering shrill demands for a man whose name seemed to be "Mr. Kerrghrrr." Stainton laid a large, but hesitating, hand upon the boy's shoulder.

"Where can I buy a ticket for to-night's opera?" he enquired.

The page ceased his vocal rumble and looked up with wounded reproof at the tall cause of this interruption.

"News-stand," he said, and immediately escaped to resume the summons of "Mr. Kerghrrr."

Stainton followed the direction that the page's eyes had indicated. Over the booth where newspapers might be purchased for twice the price that he would have to pay for them in the street, fifteen yards away, he saw a sign announcing the fact that opera and theatre tickets were here for sale. He approached, somewhat awkwardly, and, over a protruding ledge of red and blue covered magazines on which were portrayed the pink and white prettiness of impossibly insipid girls, confronted a suave clerk, who appeared tremendously knowing.

"You have tickets for the opera?" asked Stainton.

"Yessir."

"For the Metropolitan Opera House?"

"Yessir. How many?"

"There are----It's Madama Butterfly to-night, I think the paper said?"

"Yessir. What part of the house do you want?"

"I don't know," said Stainton. "That's a good show, isn't it?"

The clerk was too well fitted for his business to smile at such a query. He had, besides, perception enough to discern something beyond the humorous in this broad-shouldered, grave man of anywhere from forty to fifty, who was evidently so strong in physique and yet so clearly helpless in the commonplaces of city-life.