Indianapolis Times, Volume 37, Number 159, Indianapolis, Marion County, 4 November 1925 — Page 18

18

JOANNA. n "St:r- Million Dollars

SYNOPSIS With unusual solemnity, well-groomed MR. HAKKNESS. buyer in tlic silk department of a mammoth department store. RumuMus frightened .10 ANNA MANNERS, beautiful clerk. to appear before MR. OKA YDON. owner of the. store. Joanna*. who makes her own wa.v In the strUl. shudders at the thought of pt,J><le dismissal and thinks of the bills wst have been accumulating. She would pawn her fur ooat if the worst happened, but she dreaded to do this. Her friends would notice. Only common, steady John, with whom she had quarreled last evening, would not think less of her for that. Nevertheless, she affects a nonchalant attitude and goes to hear her fate. Instead of reproaching her. Graydon inquires about her manner of living and her friends. She misunderstands him so he assures her that he has been asked to deliver a message to her. Nervously she opens the letter and reads the first paragraph. The news is overwhelming and she drops in her chair. By H. 1,. Gates Chapter II INTO THE KINGDOM OF MONEY I |— | OR a long time Graydon siI p I lently looked down upon the l -11 1 girl who had swayed into the t hair. She, too, was silent, motionless. The letter he had given her with the small, leather bound book .shook in her hand. She held it before her, an arm resting across her knees. Her eyes stared at the typed lines. Now and again she closed her lids tightly, shook her head ever so little, and parted her lids again, as if the words on the paper blurred before the fascination of her gaze and she had straightened them out by shaking the confusion out of her brain. Once she let her hand droop, and kept her eyes closed for what might have been half a minute. Then, with a suddenness that seemed as if she wer clutching at a shadow that she didn’t want to fade she brought the paper closer and read each line again, in frantic haste. As Graydon watched her the wraith of something very tender, and ineffable, hovered about his lips. Out of the eccentric pattern of the exaggerated type she represented, the excessively obtrusive “daughter of today," anew shape emerged. For the moment lie forgot the maelstrom that surged outside his office doors —the humdrum of bargaining in the great, lavish floors of the department store. The girl, who was one of those who bargained, bargained her wits against the purses of housewives; bargained the shimmer of her hair and the brown of her eyes and the curve of her lips against the world of which the crowds out there were a symbol, became a flower, a delicate, exquisite blossom that some irreverent hothouse trader had painted into monstrous gorgeousness for the jaded taste of fools. The “Old man," forgetting for a

GLORIAS

THE STORY SO lAR Gloria Gordon, boautitul flapper, marries Dick Gregory, a struggling lawyer. Her idea of marriage is fun, and line clothes ... but no work or children. She refuses to do her own. work, ami hires a housemaid. But Dick has to let the maid pro. for Gloria has swamped him with her debts. She becomes infatuated with an out-o£-work actor. Stanley Way bum. and follows him to New York. But ho spurns her. Then she tries to get a job as a chorus girl and f , alls T .,^ lßCo Vf' aged, she comes home to Dick, ho takes her back, but not as hts wife. Gloria begins to suspect that he is In love, with his secretary. Miss Briggs. At last she wrings from Miss Unggs a confession that sho is in love with Dick, and insits that Dick discharge her. When be refuses, she goes home to her m< Dhik upon the advice of Mother Greggory, puts his own house up for sale and goes home to live with her and his father. He 6ends Gloria soo weekly, but she returns it and goes to work. Her employer makes love to her and she resigns her position. She screw up” her courage to go out after ‘ in Ehlallv o she makes up her mind to go home Not to her mothers ho'ise but to her own . . . the house that Dick wants to sell! She m to Miss Bngg and demands the key to it. Miss brings gives it to her. Cy Beatrice Burton CHAPTER LX VI —ILiORIA flounced out of the ofGfice without even thanking Miss Briggs for the key. She put it into the coin-purse in her bag, and started home. On the porch of her mother’s little hbuse sood an empty baby buggy, filled with soft blue pillows and robes. Gloria groaned. “I suppose Aunt Dorcas and Cousin Lulu liave dropped in for lunch,” she Baid to herself. It seemed impossible to face the pair again . . . with their eyes that searched her face for a sign of weakness. But to her relief, only Lulu was in the living room of the house. "Well,” she greeted Gloria. “Did you get over your peeve yesterday ? ’ She giggled nervously. “All over it,” Gloria answered, tossing her hat down on the table that stood between the windows. An open handbag stood there, too. It was filled with infants’ lingerie and nursing bottles. Gloria went into the kitchen and slipped into a house dress. “I suppose that is the wonderful babv ” Gloria said, looking at the small white bundle in Lulu’s arms. “May I see her? I haven’t yet, you know.” “Sit down in that chair and I’ll let you hold her,” Lulu offered generously. Gloria sat down in a chair by the sunny window and held up her arms for The New Baby. Lulu laid the small, warm thing in her arms, and for the first time that she could remember, Gloria knew what it was like to hold a baby- i . . It was utterly unlike anything she had ever known, before—.the feeling of compassion and tenderness that stirred in her heart. She was afraid she was going to cry. And when she smiled up at Lulu her eyes were wet and starry with unshed tears. “Lulu,” she said slowly, “I ... I shold like to have a baby of my own, I think!” The baby stirred In her arms, and laid its wee starfish of a hand against her breast. “It’s a blessing it’s got hair,” she said airily to hide the emotion that almost choked her. “So many of ’em are bald as billiard balls . . She 'scowled down, sullen-sweet, at The New Baby, and gave it back to its mother. Then she ran upstairs to pack her trunks. “Where’s mother? . Up here?” she called to Cousin Lulu as she ran. Her mother’s voice answered her from the “spare” bedroom. "I'm in here, looking up some

moment the fluctuations in the price of Manchester cotton and the season’s demand for Highland plaids, pictured her as rhodadendron suddenly bewildered by a beam of sunlight breaking through a mist. * * * ND then Joanna looked up at him. Doubts and confusion v. J had gone from her face. It was lit with the taunting smile of one who has solved a ridle. “Somebody needs a doctor! Who’s crazy, you or I?” Graydon shook his head. "It’s all very real, Joanna! You came in to me, a while ago, a little lady of very small estate. When you go out 1 again, you will be a veritable princess In a kingdom of money!” Joanna crumpled back In her chair. She brushed her forehead with the back of a hand “Please, Mr. Graydon," she pleaded: “‘Don’t make a fool of me.” The earnestness, the seriousness of the man, who confronted her puzzled her, and sent her floundering for other words. He pointed to the paper she still held in her hand. “Read it aloud,” he said. “Perhaps the sound of it will help you.” After she had murmured her persistent doubt, “It says it’s from a bank!” she obeyed him, mechanically. "And it says,” she began: “We have the good fortune to notify you that there has been placed on deposit with this institution, to your credit, the sum of $1,000,000, in cash and securities, subject to your personal check and such other disposition as you may wish to make of these funds. “We beg to say, here, that this deposit has been made by a patron of this institution who has not confided to us the source of your funds nor the motives which have assembled them for you. We have not considered it necessary to enquire into these matters, because of the identity of the depositor, nor as to his reasons for the injunction upon us do not disclose his identity to you.” The girl faltered, and looked again at Graydon, who was watching her intently. The frown still wrinkled in her brow. Her eyes still groped. “You see?” she argued desperately: “1 told you—somebody’s loose that ought to be in a hospital!” Graydon pointed to the paper shaking in her trembling fingers. She read for him the closing paragraph: “We are sending you, through your employer your bank book with

old baby clothes of yours to give to Lulu,” she said. “The poor child hasn’t made a single flannel petticoat for that blessed baby. . . . My goodness, the women nowadays! They don’t want their babies to wear any more clothes than they wear themselves!” She looked at Gloria as she stood, lightly poised, on the threshold. “I thought you were going to work today,” she remarked. Gloria smiled and tilted back her head. "No, I’m going home, mother,” she said, her eyes gleaming like amber through the thick lashes that fringed them. Her mother turned sharply toward her. “Have you seen Dick?” she asked. “Have you made up with him?” Gloria laughed. “Ask me no questions, and I’ll tell you no fibs,” she said. “And don’t say a word to Cousin Lulu or Aunt Dorcas about what I’m doing. . . . Will you?” • • * | . T 5 o'clock, when Gloria had jZV finished packing, she telel- phoned for a taxicab ... an unheard-of luxury. “Ii wish I knew what you’re up to, Glory,” her mother said anxiously as she kissed her goodby. “If you’ve made up with Dick I think you might tell me, at least.” Gloria smiled and kissed her. “Don’t worry about me, mother-kin,” she said, “I always land on my feet, don’t I?” Her mother shook her head doubtfully. “I’d feel better if I knew just what you’re doing. . . . You have such wild impulses, Gloria,” she said. But Gloria, herself, didn't know quite what she was doing. She knew simply this: that she couldn’t spend

Puzzle a Day

2i1221?3 24125 26 27\28\29

One of the problems which all those who took the State civil service examination for cost accountants, had to solve in ord%r to pass the test was to rearrange this magic square. Each row when properly arranged will total 75. This answer can be secured from eight different rows. Could you pass this portion of the test? Last puzzle answer: * The farmer’s gang cut 540 trees and it took them six days to do it, cutting ninety trees a day. First day 540 minus 15 equals 525, (1-7 of 625) 75 plus 16 equals 90; second day 450 minuS 30 equals 420, (1-7 of 420) 60 plus 30 equals 90; third day 360 minus 45 equals 315, (1-7 of 315) 45 plus 45 equals 90; fourth day 270 minus 60 equals 210, (1-7 of 210) 30 plus 60 equals 90; fifth day 180 minus 75 equals 105, (1-7 of 105) 15 plus 75 equals 90; sixth day leaving a remainder of 90. Note that each day’s amount Is 15 more than the previous day plus 1-7 of the remainder, excepting the last, when there was no remainder.

A Million Dollars Kv/iHAY tfyuld you do if somebody suddenly left you a million dollars?? The Time* is offering SIOO in prizes for the best answers to this question written in 300 words or less. Joanna, whose story begins on this page today, was left a million. Read about ivliat she did with it. The first prize is SSO; the second, S2O; the third. $10; the fourth, $5 ; the fifth, $3, and there are twelve prizes of $1 each. Send your letter to the story editor of The Times so it will reach him on or before Nov. 10.

an entry of your account. We are given to understand that Mr. Graydon will amplify certain remarks included above. We trust ” Her voice droned off through the perfunctory assurances of advice ind assistance. When she raised her eyes Graydon had dropped into his chair, across the table from her. She looked at him blankly. • * * i RAYDON spoke deliberately, fV 1 choosing his words, as if conl scious of his need to penetrate the understanding of tlie girl whose mind struggled against a portent that/ overwhelmed her. “You may accept each sentence with complete confidence,” he said. “The money is there, ready for you. Downstairs, at the curb, my own car is waiting to take you, and your bank book, to the bank. There you will sign your name, just a scratch of the pen, and the rest !” He paused, and his fingers again played Yvith the jade paperweight. In that slight pause Joanna—-the Joanna whose philosbphies were fruits of many wisdoms —thought she saw the thing that, for the time had been driven from her thoughts. She was right, after all! Only, it hadn’t come in the way she expected. A pretty little play, with all Its elaborate stage settings! A million dollars! Anew kind of gesture made by some idiot who thought she wouldn't be “wise” in time. A million dollars; then, “the rest!” And then the pompous gift of money recalled as laughingly as it had been craftily given! Ridiculous! Joanna, dropped the letter to the floor and rose. Her lips set into a line that was out of place against their penciled contours.

another night under her father’s roof. She was homesick . . . and she was going home. That was all there was to it. She stopped the taxicab before a grocery store on College Ave. and went in. She took out the money she had earned the week before and bought to/natoes and bread and lemons. ‘‘Tomato sandwiches and lemonade,” she said to herself. That was the beautifying breakfast the heroine of a Scott Fitzgerald novel had eaten, while her husband was away at war. “I’m a sort of war-widow myself,” Gloria added mentally. “I suppose a family quarrel is a war just as well as one between nations.” She sighed dismally. But her spirits lifted when the cab turned in at the driveway of her own house. She turned her head away so that she didn’t see the “For Sale” sign as they swept past it. • * * SHE house smelled musty. Gloria threw open the windows and doors. She took off her hat, and ran out Into the back yard to pick some of the late roses that glowed among the leaves of the bushes. She filled bowls and vases with them and turned on all the lamps in the living room. The house began to feel home-like and happy again.... There came a sound of footsteps on the back porch. The Donberg twins stood there, peering in through the screen door. Their noses were flattened against the wire netting. “Hello!” one of them said. “We’re glad you’re home again. We like you." “Because you’re pretty," the other added, solemnly. “You mustn’t like people because they’re pretty,” Gloria told them. “You must like them because they're nice and good like your mother.” “Aren’t you nice and good?” asked one twin. "Well, no....but I can tell fairy stories,” Gloria answered. “Come over tomorrow and I’ll tell you one about a poor girl who was bewitched by an ogre.” She thought of herself and Stan YVayburn. In his own sleek, dapper way, Stan had been a sort of ogre. He certainly had bewitched her, after a fashion —Oh, well, what was the use thinking about it? “Look -here, infants,” she said, suddenly. “Run over and ask your mother if I can borrow a piece of ice from her. Just a little piece.... enough for a pitcher of lemonade.” The pair dashed down the steps, racing to see who could reach home first, to he the proud bearer of the borrowed ice. In a few minutes the light tapping of high heels came across the porch. The twins’ mother stood there, holding a large lump of ice in one hand and a covered plate In the other. “Hello, there,” she called cheerfully. “What are you doing here? I thought you and your nice husband had gone away for good.” "Oh, I just came back to pack up some things,” Gloria put her off. “And I thought while I was here, I'd get a bite to eat.” Mrs. Donberg laughed. "I’ve brought you another bite,” she said, uncovering the plate. “Some devil's food cake I baked this morning. Mr. Donberg has such a sweet tooth! ....Desert’s the whole meal to him!”

“Now, you’re getting at it, Mr. Graydon!” she exclaimed. “I thought there’d be a catch in It. What’s the rest?” The man only shook his head, rather sadly, as if he suffered a little before the spectacle of a girl, fresh and young and lovely, who must ever be on the alert for "the catch in it.” “There are no obligations,” he said, still shaping his words slowly. “The stupendous gift is yours without conditions. Is that the word you would have me use; conditions?” • • * B~"“ EFORE this rebuff Joanna again was speechless. GrayiJ don went on: “You may not even ask a question. In return none will be of you. It Is possible that you shall never know the name of your benefactor. I know his reasons. I know the motives. But I may not reveal them to you. I may only say, and I hope you will have a little trust in me—that you need have no trouble and that there is nothing unpleasant about your mystery.” Joanna sank to her chair. "You mean,” she persisted, “You mean that someone —someone I don't even know—has made me rich and that I don’t have to—that he won't ask of ine—!” She could not go on. All her reasonings, her wisdoms, her safeguards were beaten away as if they were futile things. She heard Graydon say what still maddened her because of the puzzle in it; because it left her helpless. “You will not be asked to give—anything!” The office door opened. Graydon had touched his buzzer and the secretary entered —the strangely soft

G-loria Goes Back to the House and Telephones Dick.

. MONTH ago Gloria would have sneered Inwardly at her ■J neighbor’s chatter. But now she listened with interest... .She had found out the joy that lies in putting a good meal on the table for a well-loved husband! There was as much romance In cooking corned-beef-and-cabbage as there was In writing a love letter. It all depended upon the person for whom you cooked it! “If I hadn’t made such a mess of things I might be getting dinner for Dick myself, right this minute.... waiting for him to come home,” she thought regretfully, as she peeled her tomatoes. It wasn’t until after she had eaten her lonely meal and put the dishes away that she began to wonder why she had began to wonder why she had come there to the house that seemed still to be alive with Dick. “I ought to go back to mother’s,” she told herself. “There’s no point in getting soft and sentimental about Dick now, when he hates me....1f I had any sense I’d divorce him and forget him, I suppose. There must be someone else somewhere who could make me happy." But she knew there wasn’t anybody else who could. She closed and locked the doors and windows of the house, and went upstairs. Her own r00m.... with Its silk curtains rustling In the night wind.... Ah, it was the sanctuary she needed! Away from every one who would question her or give her advice. Tomorrow she’d brace up and get a job. She’d face the world, and whatever was ahead of her. But tonight she’d stay here, hidden and at peace.... • • • | - £, IHE thought of the months beI !S I fore her marriage when she ‘ r and Dick had come here every day to watch the builders at their work of making a home for just the two of them! She remembered how Dick had watched her as she went around the half-finished house, planning the furniture that was to go into It. He had loved her then! Could It be possible that he had no feeling at all for her now? “Im going to telephone him right now and tell him to come here! I want to see him!” Gloria said suddenly, moY r ed by an impulse stronger than herself. She called the number of the 01,l Gregory residence. ‘'What’ll I say to him?” she thought in panic, as she waited for him to answer. “I haven't any excuse for seeing him, have I?” But to her Intense relief It was not Dick’s voice, but Mother Gregory’s that answered the phohe. “This Is Gloria speaking,” the girl said. “Is Dick there, please?” "No. he’s not!” Mother Gregory’s full voice snapped off the words. “He came home to dinner, but he’s gone out for the evening.” "All right good-by,” Gloria faltered. “Walt a minute!" Mother Gregory cried. ” T want to say a word to you, G10ria....1 think you’d better not telephone Dick again. There’s no use in 1 eeping him stirred up all the time You two have agreed to disagree ind you’d better stick to it!” Golria had no answer. “Glo-ree-a, did you hear me?” Dick’s moth' r asked, after a moment. '“Yes,” sh' heard Gloria whisper. And she h’ up the receiver. (Ti Jo Continued)

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

mannered, unobtrusive girl in whom | Joanna had first seen utter unattractiveness, but who had caused her to wonder, after a bit, if her own lips were not a little too scarlet. On the girl’s arm was Joanna’s wrap and in her hand was Joanna’s hat. It was the same fur wrap Joanna had thought to be in direful risk of the pawnshop when Graydon summoned her from the silk counter, presumably to her dismissal for some unknown offense. The hat was the one still unpaid for. The sudden sight of the fineries she could not afford, either to have or not to have, sent her into a torrent of hysterical laughter. Graydon gave the secretary a hasty sign. Both waited until the girl In the chair quieted, her laughter dying away in stifled sobs. The secretary moved toward her, then, and held her wrap. Automatically Joanna drew the cloak around her slender llgure. Then she fixed her hat. Suddenly she turned, faced Graydon again and cried out to him; “But what am I to do—with the money?” The man answered in the even, curiously convincing manner that so completely baffled her: “That Is one of the questions I may not answer. I shall be eager to know what your decisions will be.” * • • flppl HE secretary would have com- | I sorted the girl; would have taken her arm and led her out Into the store and to the street, but Graydon stayed her with a motion of his hand, as if whatever Joanna was to face, she must face it alone. Joanna groped her way across the office and the reception room. The secretary held open for her the outer door. For a moment she leaned against it. Before her eyes the busy people who hurried through the passageways between the partitions of the cubbyholes on the “office floor” seemed to be swimmers In a whirlpool. She felt that Graydon had followed her and was standing close. Without turning sho asked, her voice rising barely above a whisper: “Which way do T go?” A long time afterwards; when Joanna of the skirts too short and lips too red and tongue too pert had become a Golden Girl around whom a vortex raged, she remembered Graydon’s reply to her whispered appeal. "I wish that I might show you, my dear: but it is every' girl’s burden to choose for herself. And as each one of you makes your choice, the world becomes better or worse. You may go either to the right—or to the left.” When the door closed behind the girl w r ho had been “Miss TwentySeven of the Silks,” Graydon asked the secretary to get for him, on the telephone, the bank whose letter Joanna had wonderingly carried away In her hands. “Ask that I ha\'e Mr. Eggleston. He is expecting a call from me.” The telephone conversation was brief. Graydon seemed only to wish that his friend, the closest of the friends of his elderly years, should know that “she” was on her way to the bank; that “she” would be there In a few minutes. At the other end of the wire Andrew Eggleston, a gray man w r no might have been molded from the same pattern that had shaped Graydon except that the lines of his face were sterner, the lights of his eyes less gentle and his gestures more spasmodic, would have had his friend say more. He tvas unhappy with his own curiosity. Andrew Eggleston, chairman of the board of the great banking institution, and

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himself one of the world’s richest men, was totally unfamiliar with a sense of curiosity about the private emotions of one of his bank’s patrons. Yet he wanted to know how “she” had received the news that “she” suddenly had become possessor of the not Insequential sum of one million dollars. He attempted to keep his friend, Graydon. on the line. “What did she say? How did she take it? Did she —that is—well, d—it, man! Is that all you have to say? That your sales clerk Is coming down to get a million dollars?” \ Eggleston’s chief reputation In financial marts was for his irascible temper. He floundered dreadfully before the futility of spluttering into a teleprtone. But Graydon would not humor him. "Her emotions at the moment, my friend, hardly are of much consequence. At any rate, I fancy she will not have recovered from them by the time she reaches the bank. Then you may estimate them for yourself.'’ The banker sought suitable phrases with which to express his irritation at his friend's reserve. Failing to find them, he clicked his receiver abruptly. Also he relieved himself of a well rounded, sonorous oath. * * * | ; MUCH younger man, who A idled in the embrasure of a 1 window across the room, laughed softly. “The adventure begins to Interest you!” this nian remarked. "I hope, for your sake, it becomes worth while.” Eggleston glared at the younger man sharply but deigned him to reply. He turned to the papers on the ‘able before him. Brandon, the man in the window, resumed his inspection of the panorama of the street outside. An observer, studying his face, would have traced on it the spectres o's cynicism and would have concluded that they stamped him as one who harbored the conviction that he knew all sorts of women and classified them none too pleasantly. The same analytical observer would have said of Eggleston, arbiter of many of the world’s most important affairs that he was a man who had lived a life In which women had been a useless ornament. When Joanna was out. of the presence of Graydon and the quiet effectiveness of his secretary, a quietness and an efficiency that both depressed and fascinated her, her dazed numbness quickened suddenly into a feverish excitement. That she had become a ghost in some fantastic masquerade, she was sure. But the thrill of it made her pulses leap. She wanted to rush to the silk counter and confide her amazing mystery to her chums there; even to confront “Mr. Good Morning,” with a pose that would achieve its climax with the banker’s letter under Ills nose. Then she decided that such a display would be premature. By this time she was at the street entrance. The first test had come. The "Old Man” had told her to ask the doorman for his car which, he had said, would be waiting for her at the curb. She decided to try It. To her amazement the doorman, resplendent in his conglomerate livery, seemed to expect her. A wave of his hand brought the limousine to the space opposite where she waited

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The “Old Man’s chauffeur descended and held open the door. As she approached him, her eyes widened, he touched his cap. When she would have looked at her letter to find the address, he interrupt'd. “I know where, Miss! Mr. Graydon gave me instructions. It’s to the bank.” • * • N" 1 EVER before, It seemed to Joanna, had a car taken so i—. long to go wherever it was headed for. Yet, really, the chauffeur threaded traffic skilfully. Joanna’s excitement turned suddenly to panic when she realized that her driver was holding his arm to ease her to the pavement, with the arched stone portals of the hank looming in front of her. A doorman responded to a sign from the driver. There was a low word between them. The doorman touched his cap. “I am to take you to Mr. Eggleston’s rooms, Miss,” he said, with a deference which Joanna recognized at once. Eggleston, she understood, was the man she was to see. The utter drama of it all appalled her again. She looked Into the chauffeur's face and caught, there, a gleam of understanding that, nfter all, she was just a girl of the shops whose tinseled glory, whose ornaments. airs and fashions were only gaudy imitations of the fancied vogue of smart debutantes. She grasped at him as a friend. “Tell me,” she pleaded, startling the stiff foramlities of the driver of

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WEDNESDAY, NOV. 4,1923

her employer's private car, “what Is it they’re doing to me?” The "Old Man’s” chauffeur dropped his lingers from his cap and. in the face of this arrargeinent of caste at Its proper level, Immediately unbent to “Miss 27 of the silks.” He spoke confidentially: “I’ll tell you. Miss. I know nothing, except that I was to bring you here to old Eggleston's bank. But this, I’ll tell you, too, if X ou take it from me, my boss and your boss Is o. k., but if he’s sending you In to see his grouchy pal, Eggleston, there's somethin’ doin’. And when there’s somethin' doin’ over a pretty kid like you, watch your step, girlie; watch your step! And maybe you'd better give rue your number so I can call you up when I’m off duty after 10. You’re the kind that looks too good to be true.” Perhaps nothing else could have so completely restored the equanimity of Joanna. Somehow, It brought her back to a realization of her fit ness to meet and conquer all things —either her boss' chauffeur after 10 or her boss' banker before noon. All the confidence in the world clustered under the shimmering gold-brown of her ultra-mddish bob as she followed the obsequious doorman Into the marbled tastiness of the Metropolitan Bank and up to the door that bore the legend, "Andrew Eggleston.” (To Be Continued) (Copyright, 1925, 11. L. Gates)

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