MYSTERY PROMISE.

Western Star, 10 April 1934, Page 4

MYSTERY PROMISE.

MARRIAGE DRAMA. DEAD BESIDE TROSSEAU. WEDDING RING IN HAND. Surrounded by the trappings of shattered romance, a girl of 26 was ' found gassed in a London apartment house last month. .Clutched in her hand was a platinum wedding ring. By her . side stood a wardrobe trunk filled with exquisite garments—her wedding trosseau. She was Miss Rosa Clarke, of Belgrave Road, Pimlico.

Police inquiries arising from her death stretched half across the world ; the police of the Malay states have been approached for information.

Rosa Clarke was something of an enigma. She arrived at the house two months previously. She booked a room. She said she was to wait there for a man who was coming from the Malay States to marry her. She said that the man—to whom she always referred as “Joe”—was many years older than liersplf; that she had met him last summer when he was home on leave; that she had fallen suddenly and deeply in love with him; that she had motored about- the country with him—she still had not only her own but his driving license. She said that “Joe” was recalled to his important post abroad; that he had given her a sum of money—£2oo—to prepare for a. wedding; that he would return and marry her as soon as possible.

HER SILENCE.

But of her life before she. met this admirer she said—nothing. It was as if a veil had dropped, severing her past from her present, as if' she had been born anew * with the birth of her romance. ‘She said she had been educated in a convent,” said, her landlady, Mme. Gaisse. “Sometimes she spoke to me in French, sometimes in German, instead of English. One day she showed me her passport, and told me she had spent some time in Canada.”

When she bought her clothes she packed them so that she might be ready to leave the house at a moment’s notiee. But she seldom went out —lest she missed a message that might conic for her. She stayed in the house for hours and days at a time—writing. on a portable typewriter, and incessantly playing the gramophone. ,The music from that I mechanical device runs like a motif through the tragedy. At first letters came regularly, and, once, a cable message. Whenever a letter came she told Mme. Gaisse she would soon be getting married to live, in her own words, “a life for' ever iu the sun and the open air.” But—four weeks before the tragedy the letters stopped. Rosa Clarke fretted. .She was- found on several occasions erving in her bedroom. Once a maid liearc, her call out in her bitterness, “Why don’t T get a letter?” That day, in a frenzy of rage, she smashed all the picture frames in ner room. She went put. She spent the whole day at the cinema—steeping hoi soul in vicarious romance.

BROKE DOWN. . Miss Kilceti White, Rosa Clarke’s stepsister, told how she spent the last Saturday afternoon and part of the evening with (he dead girl. “As soon as I saw her she asked me if I had a letter. When 1 said ‘No,’ she said, ‘There is nothing left- now but the gas tube.’ I did not take this seriously, for later she cheered up.

At night we went to the post office and inquired when the air mail from lie .'Jalny States would aniee. When they told her that the air mail had m- ! , f 1 ], roke down. She went a wav and left me. (That was the last I ever sh'.'.' of her.’

THE EVIDENCE.

‘Last night George said that ho’d kiss me or die in the attempt.’ ‘Did he kiss you?” JWell, he was alive this morning.’ NOT HIS FAULT. The excitable man, rushing to board a tram, ran into an umbrella held by another passenger. ‘You stuck your umbrella in my eye,’ he shouted as he got on the car. ‘Oh, no,’ replied the offender. ‘I assure you that you’re mistaken.’ ‘Mistaken! Don’t you think I know when my own eye is hurt?' ‘Doubtless you do, but you don’t know my umbrella. . I borrowed this one yesterday. l TIME TO RECOVER. ‘Have you ever been here before, sir?’ asked the barber. ‘Yes, once. ’ ‘I don’t seem to remember your face, sir.’ .‘Oh, it’s healed up since then.’ NOT WHAT HE THOUGHT. ‘Mummie, is it bay rum in the bottle on your dressing table?’ ‘No, dear, it’s gum.’ ‘H’m! I ’spects that’s why I can’t get my hat off.’ NOT ENVIED. 1 Member of Anti-gambling League: I will not say I have never gambled. I once bought a ticket in a raffle for my wife. i Member of Audience: So that’s how you got her, is it? . APPRECIATIVE. Notice posted outside a church in a country town ‘To-morrow we shall hear the Vicar’s Farewell Sermon. Let us gather in large numbers to show our -appreciation.’ •.

NOT FUNNY. ‘You are the only gentleman in the room,’ said a stranger. ‘ln what- way, sir?’ -asked a guest. ■ ‘When 1 tripped in the dance, tearing my fair partner’s dress, you were the only one in the room who did not laugh.’ . - ‘The lady is my wife, and I paid £lO for that dress yesterday.’ SELECTED. A tourist, standing on the river bank, called in a loud voice : ‘Hollo, there! Which of you fellows can swim?' All the boatmen but one exclaimed : ‘I can, sir! I can.’ To the one that stood’ apart froiis the rest the tourist said : .‘You, there, can’t you swim?’ ‘No, sir.’‘Very good; then ferry me across.’ QUITE CONVINCED. Fair Visitor: So you have really decided not to sell your house? Fair Hostess: Yes. You see, we placed the matter in the bauds of an estate agent. After reading his lovely advertisement of our property - neither John nor I could think of parting with such a wonderful and perfect home. r NOT SO EASY. An old gentleman visiting a countrv mansion thought he would take a rise out of the groom. On seeing the-stone dogs at either side of the door he exclaimed : ‘Say; my- man, how often do you feed those dogs?’ ‘Every time they bark,’ was the prompt reply. QUITE SAFE. The new curate was expected for tea. - s he had an extraordinary large nose Mk Jones was warn her son’ make r ude remarks. During tea Willie stared at the curate for cT^X! 1 ' 1 " 6 thathis -tkerfrown-

•VT all ri S ht » moth.r, I’m not gO . £°iy ; r * only.l^g

THRIFT. to the station from -here?’' nuctl ;T:°r Ce/ replied the conductor. . Tlle “«} continued to run, and haring covered another ’ stretch ;?/ •1 breathlessly of the conductor:: bending to it. IW,leavi,f g tr'LS-r leaned far out from +i,„ , ' bllQ part, waved a BC °™f at fiTf T* and shouted, ‘Hi! Come on u „ ’ and Ivolian looked u D to , 1 tower for the first ti me and .T ‘Becky, Becky, get lmrl-! v . Shouted > mg the building.' l ‘ v ’ * ou '’ L ’ hemiperils in the rough. ri<rWjbeautiful ball strimln- 1 Wc , r droVo a Golieu followed/ ' but w P T fai,w ' a - v - Touch . . into thn managed to get TaT ab ° Ut wilc % ha mam 00 queried the Sco t S .

‘Whv e/ T l ' eplied Cohen - Mac! 1 Countcd ten masel’,’ roared

as it my f au j fc r , , S™ BB smike?’ a 4 C( VT to k!11 a Cohen. the resourceful— —«

A Malayan witness upon oath in n i.,. "hon swearing howl of water into TV d ™'- a Won diijjiod. j. i ' !l 1 ■ oi- ],,, V, ti,o w 'Wo. •should prove fal s T= o '' if I,is evidence