Indianapolis Times, Volume 40, Number 213, Indianapolis, Marion County, 24 January 1929 — Page 13

JAN. 24, 1929.

O Ufa Sion* of a Modern Moon Goddess nor r c h i o mk.

CHAPTER XLl—(Continued) "Or they're ted up on working. Or they’re lonesome, and they want company. Maybe it's just a meal ticket they're grabbing. “Or they don’t want to be old maids. Some of them do it so’s they can have kids. There’s - reasons enough, decent and respectable, and all that. But it’s not love—and it’s not just money. "Now, you’re different, Ash. It’ll be love or money with you. And nothing else but.” “But money doesn’t make a happy marriage, Monty!” she had protested. “No, but it makes u- for an unhappy o he,” he told her wisely. “If you don’t love a man more than God himself, be sure he’s got money, Ash. If you love him enough, it don’t count. I got a feeling in my bones ...” “What sort of a feeling?” she had demanded, when he hesitated. But Monty shrugged his shoulders then, and whistled. That was all, he declared, that he had to say. ana LOVE or money. . . . Well, I did, didn’t I? thought Ashtoreth to herself .. . Marry for love, I mean, she added hastily. She had left Hollis in the ballroom, and slipped out during a brief moment when nobody was paying any particular atten ton to her. Now she leaned over the rail, and drew her glittering cloak about her. There was somebody standing in a little comer that was full of shadows. Ashtoreth had not seen him, but she felt him. standing there. He had seen her, of course, in the light of the open door, clothed in black and silver, with a star on her forehead, and a gleaming wrap to warm her. Probably he was lonely, and would like to talk to somebody. . . . Why not? Hollis was dancing with Lady Mary, wasn’t he? And not caring a bit what became of her. She leaned over the railing, and adressed herself to the heavens. “Star bright, star light—first star I’ve seen tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might—have the wish that I wish tonight.” She turned her profile toward the dark comer, and clasped her hands against her throat, shivering slightly, and drawing her cloak closer. Hollis said that her hands made him think of calla lilies. As for her profile—she knew that was perfect . . . She sighed softly. Then out of the shadows stepped a familiar figure . . . And that moment the door opened, framing Hollis, his hands thrust in the pockets of his dinner coat. Ashtoreth knew he was looking for her, but she pretended, for a moment, to be lost in contemplation of the wintry sea. The stranger stepped back, filling the corner filled already with darkness. “Orchid!” cried Hollis, and joined her at the rail. “My dear, you’ll catch cold!” He covered her hands with his, chafing them warmly . . . “Silly little girls—it’s frigid as Greenland’s icy mountains out here.” “I didn’t know you’d miss me,” she pouted prettily. “You were so interested in Lady Mary.” “Darling!” he cried, and put his arms about her. “You know better than that, don’t you Sweetheart?" She let him hold ( her for a moment, looking over his shoulder, peering into the shadows. That man had given her a dreadful start. He looked so exactly like Monty. It couldn’t be, of course. But what if it was? She drew a little away from her husband. “Come on in, Hollis. I’m frozen to death.” “But why did you come out, Orchid?” “To wish on the first star,” she told him. “I always do.” “Baby!” he murmured. “Darling little baby,” and forgot that there had been several first stars, rising over the Caribbean, that his bride had quite overlooked. nan THEY arrived in Paris on a Monday, and went directly to the Rita. Because it was Monday,, the

THE NEW Saint-Sinner GyjJnneJJustin C 1926 ri NLA SOma.fi*.

Crystal had no real fear that she would not be "rescued” ultimately—possibly within twenty-four hours of Bob's receipt of the "ransom letter” she had concocted and mailed to him that Monday night. But in the meantime she must eat and sleep and pass the long hours somewhere. She could hardly count on being "rescued” before Wednesday night. It was only 10 o’clock on Monday night when she re-entered the little shack which Providence had provided as a haven of refuge for the girl who had kidnaped herself. After throwing another log on the fire. Crystal went exploring. Whether she ate or not during the next forty-eight hours was to be decided by what the only other room of the shack had to offer. With a candle held high, she pushed open the flimsy door, gasping a little at the sudden impact of ice-cold stale air. A rat scurried across the floor, and the girl screamed. For a long minuute she trembled so violently that she could not walk, but from the threshold her enormous, terrorstricken hazel eyes took in demils of the room. There was a two-burner oil stove, and above it a shelf piled with pots and pans. In another comer of the room was a triangular, built-in cupboard, from which the rat had sped. Where there were rats there was food. Suddenly-realized hunger overcame the trembling. She advanced almonst boldly, and broke into childish sobs of relief when she found that the cupboard was not bare. The r.\t had been dining off pancake flour, spilling upon the shelf from a round hole in the cardboard box. She could not eat thft, she told herself with a shudder of disgust,

shops were closed, and the museums and galleries, and even a number of the smaller restaurants. Hollis was quite content to stay in their suite. Ashtoreth was annoyed when he seemed to think there was nothing more exciting to do than just hold hands, and kiss, and things like that. He was still talking about how exquisite she was, and consummate, and she had begun to find it slightly nerve-wracking. Finally, they went to ihe Case de la Paix, and on the way Ashtoreth noticed that on the Avenue of the Opera, there were many unromantic American things for sale —sewing machines, and shoes and dress patterns. It was disenchanting, somehow. But the case was very exciting. They sat out doors, on the sidewalk, in the middle of winter. And everybody d r nk cocktails, or case au lait, or chocolate, to keep warm. And the:e were flower venders, selling violets and daffodils. Hollis talked to one of the waiters, and presently the man who owned the place (or maybe he only managed it), was there, bowing and shaking hands, and calling her Madame. Hollis knew everybody, and everything. They went from there to Place Vendome, to see the crystals at Premet’s. And, as they stalled along the boulevard, Hollis spoke to a number of people. Several of them stopped, and exchanged lengthy greetings. They made Ashtoreth feel ignorant and gauche, even when they spoke English. Because she could think of nothing to say, except, “It’s my first trip,” when they asked about her plans. nun THEY went to Prunier’s for dinner, because Hollis said it was tile most fashionable place in the world. But Ashtoreth did not want lobster. She wanted some ox Maizie’s sausage cakes, with tomato sauce. They had twenty-eight hors d’oeuvres. And a bottle of Poe Roget, because it was their first dinner in Paris, and Hollis said they really should celebrate. Then lobster thermidor. But Ashtoreth had eaten too hors d’oeuvres by the time it arrived. And the wine had gone straight to her head. It wasn’t a very successful dinner. Probably it was the wine that made her homesick, and the patisseries that made her ill . . She cried herself to sleep between linen sheets, and shivered all night, because no French puff can cover anyone’s feet and shoulders at the same time, and Ashtoreth liked to keep them both warm. To make things worse, she dreamed about Monty, and woke up shrieking, because he was standing in a dark corner, and someone was dropping anchors on him. Hollis was very sweet, and dried her eyes, and kissed her gently. But Ashtoreth had discovered that his two front teeth (the upper ones) were on little swivels and he removed them at night, after the lights were out. In the morning she woke believing that Monty was in Paris. Hollis had gone out so quietly that she did not hear him. There was a note from him on the pillow, telling her to ring for petit de jeuneur, and that he would have a little surprise when he returned. CHAPTER XLII HOLLIS was always bringing back surprises. The amethyst eardrops, for example, that hung like clusters of little translucent r .rapes, way down to Ashtoreth’s -boulders. A choker of black pearls, with a ring for her first finger, to match. And a negligee that was multi-col-ored, and shimmering as clouds at sunset. With mules, besides, that were made from the breasts of humming birds. He took her to Patou’s, and Agnes’, and Lucien le Long. To say

but there were two small cans of evaporated milk, half a can of ground coffee, a Mason jar filled with dried lima beans, a row of canisters containing small amounts of -tea, sugar, cornmeal and salt, and, on the top shelf, a full glass of red currant jelly and two cans of deviled ham. That was all, but to Crystal, who had feared starvation, it seemed that the unknown had provided for her visit with prodigal generosity. “I’m silly to cry,” she gasped, clinging weakly to a shelf of the cupboard. “But I know I’m wicked, wicked! And I don’t deserve to be spared starvation.” She found a can opener in a shallow drawer of the cupboard, and was only momentarily dashed by the discovery that there was no kerosene oil in the little two-burn-er oil stove. It was really rather an adventure to cook on an open fire. Since the rat had defiled the box of pancake flour, the problem of bread became a pressing one, until she remembered how her mother had made Johnny-cake by mixing cornmeal and salt with boiling water, patting it into a flat cake and baking it on a flat iron girddie. Her unknown host possessed no griddle, but there was a tig iron skillet, which would serve the same purpose. Almost gaily the girl set about preparing the first meal since breakfast. Crystal was too far removed from her pioneer ancestors to make a success of fireplace cooking, but she finally sat down to a dry. scorched Johnny-cake, canned deviled ham and wuak tea. She had never eaten a me id that tasted better. She was undressing to go to bed when there came a thundering knock on the front door. (To Be Continued'

nothing of Jenny, and Henriette—and any number of other places, too. And she Itought sport clothes and afternoon frocks and dinner gowns. With hats, and scarves, and lingerie to match. It was tremendously exciting, and lots of fun. But Ashtoreth was growing restless. And, sometimes, she was homesick. Maizie had written by every boat. Sadie, she said, went to see Dan Corum the day Ashtoreth was married. She felt just awful about the things she said, and hoped Ashtoreth would forgive her. She was back at the flat, and lots of company. The bank deposit Hollis had made to Maizie’s account was still untouched, and please God, she’d never go near it. For she might be poor, but she still ha'd her pride. When she read her mother’s letters, Ashtoreth was always filled with a tremendous urge to go out and buy things. Silk dresses, and bottles of perfume and scented face powders. Gloves, and a silk umbrella, with a jade duck for a handle. An antelope handbag and material for an evening gown—poppies and morning glories in a sea of quivering silver tissue. She sent th?m all to Maizie, with oceans of love, and innumerable little crosses that stood for kisses. Maizie never said anything about Monty. But Ashtoreth always looked for him, as she walked along the avenues, or stopped at the sidewalk cases for case au lait, and crisp, sweet croissants. Sometime somewhere she was going to bump into him. She had felt it, in her bones, ever since that night when she dreamed he was in a dark corner, and someone was dropping anchors on him. nun FROM Paris they went to Venice. Godoliers with sashes, and ribbons fluttering from sailor hats such as little girls used to wear, poled them up and down the Grand Canal. But it was cold on the water. And even the pigeons, pecking apathetically in St. Mark’s square, were shivering. Venice had been Ashtoreth's idea. But now that she was there, it was cruelly disappointing. “I told you,” reminded Hollis, “that it wasn’t the season.” “But you didn’t want to go to London, either,” she argued. “Os course not. It’s deathly in London now, Egypt is the only place in midwinter.” “But I don’t want to go to Egypt,” she proteste dunreasonably. “Nothing but a lot of old mummies, and the desert. Let’s go back to Paris.” So they motored along the Italian riviera, through Nice and de Grasse, where perfumes are made from real flowers. And Ashtoreth bought quarts of distilled fragrance for Maizie, and sent them on the Leviathan, in a special mail sack, so they wouldn’t be spilled. nan BACK in Paris, she decided to take French lessons. And cooking lessons at the Gordon Bleu. And riding lessons in the Bois. She felt quite important, hurrying from one apartment to another. But, when she had nothing more to do she used to envy the shop girls, and the models, whose lives were full and busy, as hers was once. Hollis had insisted that she engage a maid. An English woman, to draw her bath, and pick her clothes up off the floor. To comb her hair and slip her feet in the little humming bird mules. And bring her chocolates and croissants in bed. Asa matter of fact, it was Hollis who engaged the woman. Ashtoreth herself would never have dared talk to a lady’s maid. The woman’s name was Mabel Moggs, and she rather overawed her mistress. Hollis was somewhere playing tennis. Ashtoreth didn’t play, and she didn’t like to watch. He had driven out in the Hispano-Suiza, and she had planned to poke around a little by herself. Hollis had never taken her to Saint Chapelle, or to see his “favorite girl in all the world”—the Madonna of Notre Dame. Ashtoreth wondered if it was because he was disappointed in her. If Paris had ceased to be the lovely adventure for him it used to be. And if that was because she was not to him all the things he had dreamed. / Well, she’d go to those places herself, and tell him, afterward, that she had been. She would show him that she was appreciative of art and beauty and history. She bought a guide book, and set out determinedly. The day was warm, like spring in Boston. And there were lovely things blossoming in the flower market. Hyacinths, that made her think of Maizie, and mauve tulips, and daffodils. She bought a bunch of violets for four francs. “Sixteen cents!” she thought. “Why. they’d be three dollars at home!” . . . And she gave the old flower woman the change from a ten-franc note. It was pleasant to enjoy an overwhelming amount of gratitude and appreciation for twenty-four cents. She pinned the violets to the collar of her squirrel coat, and remembered that her little felt hat was the same shade. She knew she looked very beautiful. because people stared at her admiringly, and made comments on her clothes, and her appearance. They knew *mt she was a rich American, and tried to sell her more flowers, and love birds in wooden cages. She shook her head, and said, “Non, non, Madam.” . . • “Merci, Monsieur, non.” . . . And smiled at everyone, and handed francs to their children. And felt like a stylish saint, with a great deal of chic, and a warm, tender heart. n n n THERE was a man following her. An American, she thought. I But she did not like to • turn around. It might of course be a Frenchman. Frenchmen were always following women about. She rather hoped, j though, that it was an American, | and that he would find some good reason for speaking to her. (To Be Continued)

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES ,

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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SALESMAN SAM

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THE BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE

Sntt Flre'rf London, whloh Maura* to IMS ■ To_ollWctlloo^a*al was such a catastrophe that governments were jarred , tlame * whole rows into the re-eetablishment of fire companies once more. y hou *®* were blown This conflagration raged for four days, destroying 13,- down with gunpowder, 000 houses. Samuel Pepye, In his famous diary, tells *° that advancing how helpless people were to check the flames. flames would have nothtfu>rvMtoW*mtswfcet—.ito^toconr**.w<. J ymg to feed on. J

OUT OUR WAY

By Ahern

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ii i Officials were appointed to supervise the tack, and' after the the y*tem of the old Romans was partly copied. A fire, London eet itself to small P ai< * force, equipped with hand-pumps, ladders the' task of averting a and l ool *' was organized as a nucleus, and a system of repetition of such a dis- .volunteer fire companies was organized about it. Other aster by organize tire: countries adopted the idea also, and f,re protection fighting companies? aain bacama g*nral. (To Be Continued) ” r V *■<Sue**.

SKETCHES BY BESBEY. SYNOPSIS BY BRAUCIIEB

PAGE 13

—By Williams

—By Martin

By Blosser

K\ < .ine

By Small

By Cowan