Indianapolis Times, Volume 42, Number 293, Indianapolis, Marion County, 18 April 1931 — Page 11

APRIL 13, 1931

MAD MARRIAGE-1 fey LAURA LOU BROOKMAN Author of'HEART WNQRY’etc.

Chapter Thirty-Seven (Continued) “We've never had him out, you know. Do you suppose you could manage it?” “Why. of course. I’d love to have him come.” “All right. I'll fix it up for tomorrow evening then. It's the only chance because he has a lot of other engagements. What time shall I say? Six-thirty? She told him 6:30 would be right. Swinging around and setting down the telephone, Gypsy began to plan a campaign of activity. She was anxious for that dinner for Mr. Harrison should be Just right. Gypsy had the greatest admiration and respect for the aged lawyer. She had seen him occasionally since the first day she had gone to Jim’s office and each time her original impression had been strengthened. She had. furthermore, a feeling that Harrison was her friend. The whole house must be spotless. There was the menu to plan. Gypsy decided to have the dinner served on the porch if the day was warm. She telephoned to Cora and arranged to have the weekly cleaning done next day. Then there was a session with Matilda, a hasty survey of food supplies, a trip to the market. a a a she came in from the ▼ trip downtown Gypsy took off her hat and surveyed herself in the hall mirror. ft, occurred to her she needed a shampoo. She went to the telephone and arranged for an appointment at Louise's. “111 have a shampoo,” Gypsy told herself, “and a finger wave and manicure. I’ll wear the printed chiflon tomorrow and I want to look my best.” She hurried through the rest of her list of tasks to be on time for the appointment at the beauty parlor. Gypsy arrived promptly. There w'as a wait of several minutes and then a tall girl with a mass of jet black hair led her to a curtained booth. Louise’s shop was the most expensive in Forest City. The walls and curtains were green and ivory. Forest City’s society always had its hair done at Louise’s. The tall girl worked dextrously with soap and water and rinsing sprays. She rubbed Gypsy's head with pungent lotions. Then she pressed the wet hair into waves, and pinned them in place. Finally she bound the girl’s head with a thin cap. “Now come this way.” She directed Gypsy to a vacant booth and adjusted the hair dryer. For half an hour the girl sat before the operator reappeared and snapped off the current.

The droning buzz of the hair dryer died. From beyond the curtained wall of the next booth a woman’s voice rose. “Bu,t have you heard about Jim Wallace?” the voice was saying. "He's going to leave his wife!” CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT sat perfectly quiet. She J could not raise her eyes; she could not even seem to breathe. Tire voice of the unseen speaker continued: “Why, I heard it at the country club. It’s all over town now! Jim’s leavig this girl he married in New York and is going to divorce her. And here’s Marcia Phillips back, a widow, with all that money—! Well, I guess you can see for yourself. Personally, I think it's priceless. I never heard anything like it!” There was a flutter of soprano laughter. A second voice with deeper tones put in something that was an inaudible murmur. “I suppose you're right.” the first speaker agreed, “only honestly every one knows about it—" Then the conversation in the next booth swung to a coming house party. There was no more mention of Jim Wallace. The beauty parlor operator was combing out Gypsy’s waving hair. "Now if you’ll show me how you wear it,” she said, “I'll put the pins in.” Gypsy struggled to master her voice. “I—l think I'd rather do it myself, if you don’t mind," she said. It seemed to her that someone else had said the words. “Certainly not, Here—l’ll get you a mirror.” The other girl disappeared and a moment later was

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back with a large black mirror. She handed the mirror to Gypsy and was gone. Gypsy confronted her reflection in the mirror. Her checks were flushed. She wondered if the hair dresser had noticed the color come into her face. Os course the girl had overheard. Did she know who Gypsy was? She had called her “Mrs. Wallace,” but there were a dozen different families of Wallaces. What did all that matter anyhow? What did she care about hair dressers or who the woman on the other side of the curtain might be? Was it—could it be true? Would Jim do such a thing? Was it because of Marcia? A tiny, defending voice arose in the girl's consciousness. “I won’t believe it,” the voice said “It’s only gossip. They’re trying to make trouble. I won’t believe it's true.” But the tiny voice was not loud enough to be convincing. It was such a very little, pathetic murmur —nothing to cling to in this overwhelming sea of doubt. ana GYPSY realized she still held the comb and that she had not started to arrange her hair. She ought to begin. Someone might come and would think it queer of her to be sitting there, staring at herself in the mirror. She had forgotten about the finger wave, about her eagerness for her hair to be fluffy and soft about her face. She screwed It up into a tight knot at the base of her neck, jammed the hairpins in crosswise. It was only important now to get away fromm this place before any one should recogniz her. She was pulling on her hat when the hairdresser reappeared. “Oh!” she said reproachfully, “you’re all ready to go! Is the wave the way you wanted it?” Probably she hoped Gypsy would remove her hat so that she might inspect her work, but if so, the girl disappointed her. “The wave is very nice,” ’Gypsy said. She had not even noticed what it looked like. “I pay the girl at the desk, do I?” “Yes, Mrs. Walace.” At the name Gypsy colored again. As quickly as possible she left the shop and got out on the street. Then she was undecided what to do next. Her first impulse had been to go to Jim and ask him if what she had heard was true. Now she knew that she could not do that. This was a private affair to be discussed only between herself and Jim. She could not go to his office, where there were clients, other members of the firm, stenographers. She must wait until they were alone at. home.

Waiting was very hard. Gypsy turned homeward. She walked past the corner Nvhere she. shold have taken the street car without noticing it. When she realized this she had gone so far that she decided to walk the rest of the distance. At least she was pared the curious glances of other passengers. She had the feeling that faces were peering at her from behind curtained windows of houses she pe'sed and that Deople were saying, “There she is! That’s the girl Jim Wallace is going to divorce. Every one in town knows about it!” At last she arrived home. She opened the front door and sniffed the faint, delicious odor of Matilda's baking. Tha kitchen door must have been left open against orders. Even so, the smell was delicious. Everything about the house was orderly, exactly as it should be. Preparations for dinner were almost complete. Sam had departed for the day, leaving word that he would be on hand early next morning to scrub the walks and porches. “Mr. Wallace came home. I think he's upstairs,” Matilda announced. Gypsy looked at the clock on the mantelpiece and saw that it was not yet 5. Jim was home early. Wondering what this might mean, she went up the steps to dress. The first reaction from hearing the shocking news had worn off. The walk had tired her but it also had been soothing. Gypsy slipped out of her street dress and into a thin negligee. She changed her high-heeled slippers for a pair of satin mules and sank to the cushions of the chaise lounge. Then she lay back and closed her eyes.

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MINUTES passed and Gypsy still lay there. Presently she heard a low knock at the door. “Who is it?” Gypsy called. It was Jim who answered. “May I come in?'* he asked. “Os course.” She started to rise, but the door opened before she was on her feet. Jim, immaculate in white flannel trousers and blue coat, appeared. “Don’t move!” he protested, “Just thought I'd come in and talk a moment. You look as though you were all in! Have a big day?” Gypsy sat up. She caught the negligee about her more securely. “I’m not tired,” she said. “I went down town this afternoon and decided to walk back instead of taking the car. It was foolish, I guess. It’s pretty warm—” “You should have telephoned the office,” he reproved her. “I could have brought you in the car. When you’re down town around 4 o’clock or after you ought to let me know.” “I will next time,” she smiled. There was something reassuring about Jim's presence. He seemed so big and strong and sure of himself. Slowly her doubts began to loosen. Jim inquired about preparations for the dinner next evening. He seemed to be in unusually good spirits, told her that Harrison had been pleased with the invitation and chatted about-his day’s work. Presently he asked: “How about driving out to see Abbie and Charles Manley after dinner? Been promising to get out there for a long while.” “I’d love to go,”’ Gypsy said. “Oh, I must start dressing! Matilda will have everything on the table.” She went to the dressing table, seated herself. Jim edged toward the door. “Guess I’ll glance through the paper.” he said. “Will you be down soon?’’ “In ten minutes!” Gypsy declared. She had her hair down and was combing it out vigorously. There was color in her cheeks now, but it was not from humiliation. Gypsy fluffed the soft waves about her face. The beauty parlor operator had done her work splendidly. a a a THERE were a half-dozen crystal jars and bottles on the dressing table. Gypsy dabbled in one,' then another, rouging her cheeks, dusting them with powder and touching her ear lobes with fragrant scent. She moved quickly. Soon she was slipping out of the negligee and getting into a pale yellow, ruffled cotton frock. It had a full skirt and sash.

The ruffles stood out crisply cool, giving Gypsy the look of a quaint j r cung lady on an old-fash-ioned valentine. She turned and ran down stairs, arriving in the living room just as Matilda entered to say that dinner was ready. Twice during the meal Gypsy had the impression that Jim was eyeing her admiringly. She could not be sure. They drove to the Manleys’ home later and remained until nearly 11 o’clock. During the drive home in the cool night Gypsy formed a resolution. She would think no more of the gossip she had heard in the beaij y parlor until Jim himself brought up the subject. If Jim had decided on some drastic course of action he would tell her about it. It was comparatively easy to resolve these things; much more difficult to put them into practice. For one thing, though, Jim was gay that evening. Gypsy had the feeling he was too gay. Everything he said and did seemed to be with the conscious purpose of appearing genial and careless. She remembered this and waited. (To Be Continued)

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TARZAN AND THE GOLDEN LION

Immediately after dark the revolt of the slaves and the murder of the Arabs was to take place. The whites were eager for action. While Flora Hawkes sat alone in her tent awaiting the signal for the attack, a little black boy crept in —terribly frightened, At the girl’s order to speak he finally found words: ‘Put your ear close, lady,” he said, “while I tell you what Luvinl la planning.”

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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Flora heard from his Ups how the huge Luvini had given orders to kill her white companions and to sell her into slavery after the Arabs had been slain and their ivory taken. She went white with rage at the news. Then fear shook her. Seizing her pistol she strode toward the tent's flap. “11l teach that scoundrel a lesson!" she cried. The boy clung to hir, fearful of her dangerous resolve.

—By Ahern

"No! No!” he begged. "It will only mean they will kill the white men sooner and take you prisoner just the same. Every black boy in camp is against you. Luvinl has promised the ivory shall be equally divided.” The girl stood looking at the faithful boy a moment. “What shall I do then?” she asked. “There is but one hope,” he replied, “you and the white men must escape into the jungle. Not even I may accompany you.” 1

OUT OUR WAY

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—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Flora bade him go before suspicion fell upon him. Then she walked casually across the open and went to Kraski’s tent. Here she told the white men of what the boy had said. They pondered the revelation in sUence. Far outnumbered by the natives, (hey realized their situation was serious. From the distance came the night sounds of wild beasts, giving added fear to Ifee group.

PAGE 11

—By Williams

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martin