Indianapolis Times, Volume 38, Number 25, Indianapolis, Marion County, 10 June 1926 — Page 8

PAGE 8

“Business Kisses" By BEATRICE BURTON Author of “Gloria, The Flapper Wife” I 4

The names ui this story are purely tlcutio.is arid are not to be takeD as referring to anv particular person niace or firm

KRAI) THIS FIRST FLOSSIE and MAR V EOSK MIDDLETON are two beautiful young sisters, the daughters of a widowed mother, Flossie works in tile filing depart- , rrent of tile Dexter Automobile Ci>tnnany. Mar.v Rose is secretary to the sales manager, JOHN MANNERS, and is in love with him. Manners, however, is engaged to DORIS HINIG. Mary Rose discovers that Mossie lias been going on long drives with Hit.ARY H. DEXTER, president of the Dexter Company, and that he lias been giving her valuable presents. When she orders Flossie to return the presents. Flossie threatens to leave home and go to live with her chum. ALICE JAMES. Rut Flossie insists that she and Dexter are only friends, later admitting that he is in love with her. . One night DR. TOM FITZROY, who is in love with Mary Rose, takes her out for dinner to a restaurant in the country. Mary Rose sees Dexter s car in the' vard. and, afraid that Flossie is with him. phones her mother to ask if Flossie is nt home. But she isn t. and MBS MIDDLETON doesn't know where she is. Worried. Mary Rose returns to the table 'o finish dinner with Tom bolero starting home. While they sit there Tom asks Mary Rose to marry him and tries to make love to her. And' when she rebuffs him. be tells her he feels sure she is in love with another wan She confesses that she is. Ana Tom asks who the man is. ,„ GO ON WITH THE STORY % * * CHAPTER VI. Mary Rose bit her lip anil her hands twisted tightly in her lap. It was not going to lie the easiest thing in the world to tell Tom that she was in love with another man especially when that man was engaged to marry Doris Hinig! She turned her troubled eyes away from him, and looked at the bright, noisy room. It was packed now. Gills sat at the tables, openly painting their lips as they smiled across at their escorts. Through the thick haze of cigaret smoke that hung in the air, Mary Rose watched the dancers jostle each other to the half Ravage music of the jazz band. Some of the girls had their heads pressed close against their partner’s cheeks, their eyes were half-closed, their cheeks flushed. At the next table a man was saying, “Well, ,let's see what’s in she old hip-bulß" as he unscrewed the top of a flask, -s. "I don't believe this is a very nice place, Tom Fitzroy'.” Mary Rose said suddenly. “It looks pretty wild to me, and I want to go home. Call the waiter for your check and let’s go — Jiminy! Listen to that!" There came a sudden hard patter of rain against the windows, and the wmd shook #he shutters on the outside of the building. , Tom smiled at her oddly for a second.- "I ask if you’re in love with me or. not, and you tell me that this restaurant is a wild place. That s a fine kind of an answer.” he said, getting up. “I-’ll just dash out and put the side curtains on the old car. Otherwise, you’ll get soaked to the skin on the way home. I’ll be right back.” And before,she could stop him he was gone. She took out her powder puff and rubbed the shine from her pretty nose, moistened her lips with perfume from afiny bottle of cologne tlfat she carried in her handbag. When she looked hp a man was standing beside her table. It was the stout blond had been watching her all evening. His little shiny eyes were on her now, and he smiled broadly. “Hotsy! Totsy!” he said foolishly, and dropped down in the chair thaj, Tom had just left. ‘So your buddy gave you the slip, eh?" Mary Rose looked around wildly. There wasn’t a waiter within hailing distance. She turned and touched the man with the hip-flask, on his shoulder. ' “Will you please help me —?” she began, but her voice was drowned by the crashing noise of the jazz band.

SfrMSIV by ELENORE MEHERIN, Mjs M Author ot “CHICKIE”

CHAPTER CXIX Pearly clay in April. Hun coming through* the silver gauze. Breeze and perfume of the spring again. Sandy watched that happy beam of light. It went crookedly over the mirror. She thought of the sea and the sun rippling jewels on the blue waters of the channel. Images came confused and glowing to her mind. The pier—far out the mountain islands looming. Ships going down horizon lines. She and Douglas standing there, moonlight flashing on the waters. Brown shapely head lowered; eyes laughing as his lips met h^rs. She kept her eyes closed, clinging to this Image, drinking of its sweetness. It blurred. Always at this point it blurred. Not Douglas standing at the pier. Another —fcfur years ago. All of life and love befoup her then. Four years ago. Her heart beat quickly-—very quickly. Suddenly she thought: “I'll never watch the sea again.” She put her thin, soft hands over her sac And he, sitting at the bed, leaned down. “Sandy, dear—you're not sleeping? Ah—you’re not crying?” AncJ he took her hands, holding them fervently between his own. She smiled because of the strength in his clasp—the tenderness and

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The man with the flask looked at her stupidly for a second, then he shook his' linger at her and roared, "Don’t you baby-eye be like that, Dolly!” He thought she was trying to flirt with him, evidently. She looked away. “Let’s dance,” the man who had taken Tom’s chair suggested good naturedly. “I may be a bit overweight, but my middle name is Charleston, just the samey!” Mary Rose gathered up her gloves, her handkerchief, and her shabby handbag. She stood up. At that moment he saw Tom making his w r ay slowly toward her through the sea of tables. •> His hair and face were wet, and there Were spots of rain on his light gray suit. Mary Rose had never been so glad to see any one in her life, as she was to see him at that moment. She went toward him. And a dozen people tupned to watch her. They sensedThaf something was wrong— The music spun down to a hush. It seemed as even if the band foresaw that something interesting was going to happen, and didn’t want to miss hearing what there was to hear. Battles were not unknown in the Pepper Pot restaurant. But there was to be no battle that night. Tom came quietly up to the table and said, “Good evening” to the man who had taken his chair. The fellow looked up, startled. He scrambled to his feet. "Nice night, isn’t it?” ’Tom asked amiably, and smiled. "Nice night for a murder,” he went on with that friendly smile still on his face. “And there’s going to be one right here and now if you don’t get out of this place just as fast as your shoe leather’ll take you!” His arms hung at - hissides, but his fists Were clenched. There was no doubt that he meant exactly what he said. And with a kind of frightened grunt the faj blond man went. He almost ran and he did not stop until he- reached the door that led to the porch of the inn. Mary Rose sank into her chair. She was white to the lips and she trembled from head to foot. “Oh. Tom, I never was so frightened in all my life! Silly of me, wasn’t it?” she asked shakily. “That terrible man came over here _the minute you were gone and asked me to dance with him—and weren't you clever to get rid of him without even raising your voice! Oh, Tom, you are a wonder, after all.” She looked at him with grateful eyes. He always would be like that—strong and protecting and good. Wasn't she a little fool not to jump at the chance to marry him? Husbands like Tom don’t grow on bushes?* to be had for the picking^ “you said it, Mary Rose. This is a wdld place,” he remarked darkly. “I wouldn’t have brought you here if I’d known what it was like. But one of the doctors at the hospital sa}d it was a nice, quiet place. Nice and quiet, ye gods!” He raised his finger and summoned the waiter. “Let me take you out to the back door,” the man said, when Tom had paid him and given him a fat tip. “It’s raining hard, and the back door is nearer to your parking space.” He led the way across the crowded room, where the air seemed to be thick with the smell of smoke and perfume and rich foods, to the long, narrow hall at the back of the house. “Go down that hall and turn to your right,” he told them, and went back to his tables. (To Re Continued)

strength. She murmured at peace; “I’m better—now I’m better.” Again her thought trailed. She felt his arms about her—lifting her up, his happy voice saying: “I have you safe. Dear Sandy, now you’re safe. I’ve brought you safe at last!” Then all the four years vanished. She was 19 again—tossing a shawl about her—running through grapevines—one coming from the shadows to meet her—coming gaily. Douglas! No one etec —never any one else. They would begin anew, all the past wiped out. The moment strong again—oh, soon. She smiled faintly. She looked up at him' and smiled. His hea*rt leaped. He searched her white face with swift, frantic hope. Better —surely a liftle better. Oh, the pallid sweetness of her features, with the black lashes lying so gently. Face of a seraph. Like that, she stood in the courtroom, sunlight falling oft her hair —stood with such pathetic bravery and stripped her heart for all to see. Tears rushed to his eyes. Make it up to her. Just a chance to carry her far from all this. Make her happy for a While. Give to her -who was so beautiful a little of the joy she’d missed. And he fancied Sandy in a garden, he and Judith serving her. They

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would take her away; care for her as though She wer4 a child. “I want to do this, Jude, L want to bring her a little sweetness.” Judith answered, her heart constricted; her heart beating with paim"lf we only can! Oh, surely we can!” She never looked at him, saying this. She thought: "He sees! Dear God, he surely sees!” Two weeks since they brought Sandy home. Two weeks she lay so quiet—growing thinner; growing weaker. And they would turn to each other with blanched, frightened thought; they would twitch each other by the arm and whisper: “Isn’t she better? A little tonight?” Closing their minds with the violent resentment of youth; shunning the presence stealing so cruelly upon them; the presence that had entered the house and now stole ever nearer. Two weeks they sat in the kitchen listening in anguish, jumping to their feet in terror each time she coughed; dreading what the. cough would bring. When the terror passed and Sandy lay back drained; when she would finally smile and murmur huskily: “I’m better,” they would stand there with their shoulders touching, half crying, half laughing, saying hys/ terically: “Yes, better! Oh, you’re so much better!” They would both stoop and lti-js her, their hearts breaking because she whispered: happy—oh, I'm happy.” _ When they saw this hope of hers

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

they told ‘each other in panic: “She doesn't guess! She doesn’t even dream there’s danger.” But she felt their wet eyes. Her mind informed her with poignant coldness: “They cry for you. Because you’re dying—yes, you’re dying. A little while now.” •* • * She watched the April sun. Fading now. Only this morning it had danced so happily—&o crookedly across the mirror. Only this morning she thought he had lifted her up—carried her away. Ah, no —evening coming and she lay here so weak. She thought: “Bleeding to death —I’m not afraid to die.” Then she felt his lips moving over her diands. She touched his eyes. They were full of tears. The tears fell like warm jewels on her fingers. She smiled, imagining his tears were diamonds sparkling or. her fingers. She said faintly, a note of gladness in her voice: "You’re crying, Douglas—dear Douglas, I’ve only made •you cry.”/ “Don’t say that, Sandy. I love you so.” “L need your love, Douglas—oh, I need it so.” Her hand went feeling along the covers, reached his head—rested there so eagerly. She thought: “Now, I’m giving him up—yes, now I give him up.” She wished not to 'cry. She thought with pathetic defiance: “I’m not afraid—rl won’t be afraid.” Odd, slangy phrases dame to her mind— Life wouldn’t hfeh hat her! Ah, no —but ip had—sleath mustn’t—no, she had n<jt lived valiantly—but she woyldl&e so—

SALESMAN SAM—By SWAN

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES—By MARTIN

FBECKLES AND HIS FKUONDS—By BLOSSEB

And sifddenly she saw the pier again and the waters sparkling and Douglas coming with a boat and reaching out a hand to her, Douglas saying: “Step out, Sandy—dear Sandy, jump out bravely—l’ll not let the waters touch you—l’ll row you out there—see where the waters shine —” she gave a little trembling laugh. She said: “Douglas—you have shown me the light—l see it on the waters, brought me to you. Now I see—” She became calm. She thought: “Was I dreaming? what did I say?” But she felt happy—she felt as though the sun ( were flowing about her. "Dean down, Douglass. I love you —Oh, so much, but too late.” “Don’t say such things—Sandy, darling.” “But she loved you always. She will stay on, Douglas . . . (Mb jou and she ...” "And you, too, Sandy—we are keeping you ...” “But n6 —l see plainly—l know now—since htis noon . . ; Light the candles, Douglas. Jhde loves the candles . . . She loves you . . . Oh, help me ... I want—l would be brave now . . . for once . . . You owe’ it to me—l should have this—this much . . . . I’m not afraid to go.” But Iter eyes filled and filled. She clung to his hands. She felt shadows thronging about her dim fogged shadows —dim, faint voices. Out there in the shadows were figures—some of them came toward her —she couldn’t make out the faces—

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Suddenly one dashed out —out from the dimmed, fogged shadows . . . She gave a little cry—a little happy cry . . She said alopd and wondering: “Oh. you are there —you are waiting .. . waiting A happiness came to her —it came flooding like a light in her mind ... She said, astonished: “I saw my baby—my little baby there —it ran to meet me—it was all alone... Oh, Douglas, it went out alone... Into that —It is waiting there.” She put her hands over her face. She thought again: “I am dreaming. Did I speak aloud?” She became impatient ... She said: "Douglas—let me go—youri hands are holding m% —your dear, dear hands ... I am not for you—too late ... I loved you too late .. Oh, I am glad—l am not sorry now to go—he is wating—my little, little one is waiting—” She thought again, wavering: “It is waiting ... that little, little one is waiting—lt ran to meet me—ran so hungrily to meet me—l must go.” She looked up again—more startled ... “You aro alone, Douglas. Why are you here alone?” She saw his face clearly then. She smiled into it. Quietly she reached over, touched his cheek with her fingers. “Don’t cry for me. Your dear, fine eyes are full of tears. Because of mb? Where Is Judith? Ah, Douglas, she will wipe away your tears. Why doesn’t Judith come to me?” * • * Judith came. She knelt at Sandy's

bed—she buried her face in Sandy's hands. Sandy said: “It’s you he needs —you, Judith, always. He knows this. Ah, I know he sees it; make him know it, Jude. This is better, much better. Oh, this is better that I do now than I have ever done before . . . Judith, this is true —Judith, I did one thing. Tell me, Judith, tvere you proud of me that day?” “Oh, Sandy! Oh, my darling. I would go for you. I would have you stay—” “This is better. Let him come.” * + The brown head was hidden In Sandy's hands —the young, tender eyes were hidden. But she whispered: “Don’t cry so, dear, dear Douglas. Don t cry for me. Bo happy. Did I only make you sad? Douglas, put your arms—oh, here, about me. Kiss me. Once again—ah, once again. . . .” Judith came then and ltd him away. She reached her hands gently to his shoulders. Her bonny lad—dear, bonny lad. Her eyes poured all her agony of love on his. “I would have gone in her place, Douglas. Oh, to spare you this I would die so gladly.” • • • Judith put white orchids in Sandy’s pale hands —pale hands, lovely as the flowers. Judith looked at the deep waves of shining hair and at the smile carved delicately as by a spirit—a smile of triumph on that luring, wondrous mouth. Death giving back her charm—all the charm of the blithe, laughing Sandy, who had come In perfume, so gayly with all

JUNE 10, 1921)

those little throaty laughs—death making her exultant again— death ' rutting beauty of tho spirit on Sandy’s white, still face. "Died bravely—ah, so bravely— Sandy, dearest." The young form huddled in a chair stirred. He pressed his hand* bitterly against his mouth. Judith went to him. So many times she went to him. “Dougin, look at her. Oh, do! She would want this. Phe smiles! Don't rob her of this last sweetness. She wanted to go always bravely. She was so proud to die bravely. And sho did. Bravely nnd finely. I)** look at her —touch hor sWeot hands.” "All this—o!i Judy—Judy- all this." “You can not bear it?' She' reached up and put her bands on his face. She looked at him pleadingly. Looking so, she offered him her life “It is too much to boar alone, Alt. Douglas, let mo come aril bear it with you. Will you not let me bcur it with you?" For the first time he met her eyes. He seemed bewildered, ns though his own spirit spoke . . . his own spirit suld: “I’ll share it with you. I am here and I will mnko It easier—a little easier., . ." “Do you want me near? Douglas, do you want me near?” His arms swept about Judith. Like a little boy he sobbed with his head hidden on Judith's shoulder. "Judy—you—of course you—" And like a little boy he took the solace —trembling, tender solace of Judith's Alice—Judith's sweet, pretty hands —the tenderness nnd Ilfslong love of Judith's aching unua - THE END 23*