William F. Jenkins

“ We were silent a moment.
“There are women, and women,” observed Marden sagely. “I never knew a woman could appreciate the demands of a man’s profession, until a very little while ago. Not long ago, I was married. My wife loved me,—too much. She hindered my artistic development by her affection. An artist of any sort cannot develop in an atmosphere of perfect comfort. He must suffer to advance. ”

“ She knew that suffering in any form would renew his artistic ability. So she left him, trusting to his emotional suffering to make him once more a great actor.”
He looked gravely at his cigar, without commenting on the accuracy or inaccuracy of Marden’s analysis of her motives. The waiter approached. ”

“ The woman who ran off in love with a man who was in love with another woman who was in love with another man who was married to the first woman. So she ran off by herself. At least I suppose she did. She went to visit her family up in New York State. And when her husband inquired for her, her family said she had left and they didn’t know where she was. ”