repeated several times: "I am free, I am free."....

At a table, back in the shadows of the palms by the piano, sits
another interesting little lady from gay New York. She is also a
singer of note and the wife of a well known author. She has taken a
mansion on the banks of the Truckee, and brought along her retinue of
servants. Of course she is beautiful, the golden haired, blue eyed
type, with a complexion like tinted rose leaves....

Who is that lone man at the table just opposite? Ah! that bearded
gentleman with light hair, wearing a black tie; an artist-looking sort
of chap? That is a world-famous portrait painter. I had the pleasure
of meeting him and his beautiful bride at Cannes, Southern France,
some years ago. Yes, he does look rather forlorn; there is a pathetic
droop to his mouth. No, he is not here for a divorce; one of the
exceptions.

He arrived a few days ago from Tangiers; it was while there that he
received by registered post his wife's summons in her divorce suit,
and he took the first ship back to America to fight the suit and to
try to win back his beautiful wife, who, by the way, is also a
talented artist. But alas! Cupid is a stubborn little beggar; though
blind as a bat and not very large, yet he has a will of his own, and
won't be driven or led....

Though the man seated over there is apparently very interesting and is
internationally known as a great artist and an exhibitor in the Royal
Academy in London; though he must have loved his wife very much, to
have traveled half way around the world from the northern coast of
Africa to Reno, in order to try and bring about a reconciliation,