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Updated: June 6, 2025
That she was yesterday, and Elizabeth was long ago. "I can't argue it down," he finished. "I've tried to, desperately. It's a I think it's a wicked thing, in a way. And God knows all she ever got out of it was suffering. She must loathe the thought of me." David was compelled to let it rest there. He found that Dick was doggedly determined to see Beverly Carlysle. After that, he didn't know.
He wandered out into the city streets, and found himself, some time later, at the railway station, without remembering how he got there. Across from the station was a large billboard, and on it the name of Beverly Carlysle and her play, "The Valley." He stood for some time and looked at it, before he went in to buy his ticket.
I've forgotten to say that he had been determined all day to go back and give himself up, and the only way I prevented it was by telling him what a blow it would be to you and to the girl. I wakened once and said to him, 'Better get some sleep, old man. He did not answer at once, and then he said, 'All right. I was dozing off when he spoke again. He said, 'Where is Beverly Carlysle now?
There was considerable talk, because it was known Jud had been infatuated with the woman. But no one saw much of the party, outside of the ranch. The Carlysle woman seemed to be a lady, but the story was that both men were drinking a good bit, especially Jud. "Henry wrote that Hines had been in the East for some months at that time, and that he had not heard from him.
"Beverly Carlysle," commented the night editor. "Back with bells on!" He took up the photograph. "Doesn't look much older, does she? It's a queer world." Louis Bassett, star reporter and feature writer of the Times-Republican, smiled reminiscently. "She was a wonder," he said. "I interviewed her once, and I was crazy about her. She had the stage set for me, all right.
"Donaldson is dead," David broke in, almost roughly. "Maggie Donaldson is still living." "What if she is? She's loyal to the core, in the first place. In the second, she's criminally liable. As liable as I am." "There is one thing, David, I ought to know. What has become of the Carlysle girl?" "She left the stage. There was a sort of general conviction she was implicated and I don't know, Lucy.
I know it's safe with you, and I need some advice. I called on a woman this afternoon. You know who she is. Beverly Carlysle." Joe whistled softly. "That's not the point," Leslie declaimed, in a truculent voice. "I'm not defending myself. She's a friend; I've got a right to call there if I want to." "Sure you have," soothed Joe.
From that time on they saw a change in her; she was as loving as ever, but she affected a sort of painful brightness that was a little hard. As though she had clad herself in armor against further suffering. For months Beverly Carlysle had remained a remote and semi-mysterious figure. She had been in some hearts and in many minds, but to most of them she was a name only.
"Henry was not well, and in the early fall he knew he hadn't long to live. He wrote out the story and left it in his desk for me to read after he had gone, and as he added to it from time to time, when I got it it was almost up to date. "Judson came back to the Clark ranch in September, bringing along an actress named Beverly Carlysle, and her husband, Howard Lucas.
After all he meant to surrender eventually. It did not matter if they caught him. But, like the sense of flight, there was something else in his mind, something that he fought down and would not face. When it came up he thrust it back fiercely. That something was the figure of Beverly Carlysle, stooping over her husband's body.
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