Indianapolis Times, Volume 43, Number 200, Indianapolis, Marion County, 30 December 1931 — Page 11

•EC. 30. 1931_

IK® KINDS of LOVE • by KAY CLEAVER STRAHAN O SsSs.

: IMMr HFRE TODAY now to impoverished that hi n *K* * n i? Cecily's earning* support isSh£SHJ* h 2! d - Tt,e ■•** have been orphaned since childhood. *i.i® Kr * l idt>re_nt are known rescectlvelv as ROSALIE" and ORAND* * A i n ?*‘ SB .- * nd Cedlv. 32. do secre..li*. work * nd Mary-Prances. 16. Is still in school. When the storv opens has been engaged to PHILIP ECJJOYI). rouns lawyer, tor elaht years. They can not marry because Anne knows her sisters and grandparents depend on her to manage their home. has anew admirer. BARRY M KELL. with whom she Is falling In love though she has known him only a shrnt time. Marv-Frances and her friend. ERMINTRUDE HILL, strike up *n acquaintance with EARL DE ARMOUNT. stock companv actor. To MarvFrances he is an intensely romantic figure, fihe meets him secretly and promises to see him again. Next morning Phil comes to take Anne to the office m his car. He begs he" to set their wedding date. When sh* nol.its out the obstacles they come nei.r to auarrellna. Cecllv'ss friend. MARTA, tells her Barrv McKeel la a heart-breaker and net to be trusted. NOW OO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER NINETEEN "TITERE they engaged!” Cecily VV gave It a not-that-it-matters Inflection. “No, they weren’t engaged,” said Marta. “But, honestly, Cissy, when a man has been madly rushing a girl for months, if he’s decent he’ll force her to let him down, won’t he? “I don’t expect a man to marry every girl he goes with. Like mamma says, they have to go together for quite a while to find out whether they want to marry. “But I do say that when a man will do that twice in two years—just throw two dandy girls down flat, and for no reason at all—any girl who knows about It, If she has any sense, will leave him utterly alone.” “Well,” said Cecily, essaying logic, “he did have a reason, of course, if it was only that he suddenly got tired of them. “Maybe the girls didn’t know the reason; but maybe they did and didn’t like to tell.” “No, sir. I don’t think so. Bea told Lutie everything. Os course, Bea did say that when she began to go with Barry he told her that he couldn’t quarrel. That he had a complex or something about quarrels. “I forget whether she said complex or repression—but you know what I mean. He said a quarrel blew him out like a candle, and he couldn’t. But Bea said they hadn’t actually quarreled. “She did say that they’d had an argument, but that as far as she was concerned it was just foolishness, and she never dreamed that he was really angry. She said he just didn’t talk. So then she came right in and didn’t offer to kiss him good night—but she said she thought he would have, if she’d waited. A man can’t get mad and quit every time a girl doesn’t offer to kiss him good night, can he?” “I should hope not. Just the same —that sounds likc#a quarrel to me.” t> tt tt "tw TELL, what if it was? Lutie W said she thought, maybe, Bea had been flirting a little, trying to get him to the point of talking marriage. But, anyway, Cissy, what can a girl do with a man who says he can’t quarrel? It’s swell for him, of course. But it simply means that he’d have to have his own way utterly about everything—you know. “I told Lutie that if the girls had had their share of gray matter they’d have let him out for air when he first pulled that ‘can’t quarrel’ line. . “What can you do with a man like that? Honestly 1 Just, ‘Yes, dear’ and ‘No, dear’ around him all the time. Silliest thing I ever heard of!” Cecily forced herself to stop thinking that It might be tolerable to “Yes, dear” and “No, dear” around Barry all the time and said, “Marta, promise me that you won’t make a fuss at Gretchen’s party. Gretchen Ijas load? of friends, and I owe her ever so many parties, and ’’ “Oh, yeah? Put that in the UghHuh department. The more I think of it the madder I get. I won’t make a fuss. I'm not going. “Herbert can’t bear Gretchen, anyway. He’ll be glad to get out of it. Makes me sick when I think how I’ve stood up for her.” "When is it to be?” “A week from tomorrow night. Gretch didn’t ask me until yester-

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day evening, but she said I finished the list. Til bet I’m a flll-in. She said she’d tried to get me before, but I’ve been home except for the Allens’ luncheon and the bridge club. “Probably she didn’t mean to ask me either. Jean’s having sinus trouble again. Here's my street. I’ll fix Gretch Stelgerwald sooner or later. Call me up, Cissy. “Remember”—Marta took a step backward and stopped to murmur In Cecily’s ear—“what I told you about that Barry McKeel. Remember.” She was swaying down the aisle, and every one was staring at her tweeds, her trim little hat, and the gloves with their extravagant wrinkles. tt a tt CECILY remembered. All day long she remembered, variously. She remembered it as an unforgivable falsehood and an insupportable truth; she remembered it as egregious nonsense, as none of her affair, as a cardinal component of her life. She remembered, conscientiously, to forget all about it and sound happy when she telephoned to Ann, at noon, to tell her that she had given up the idea of a birthday party. Oh—different reasons. For one thing, Marta and Herbert had another engagement. She remembered that Barry was cruel and fickle, and that he was kind and honorable, and that people slandered him. Throughout the day she did think of a few other things. She thought that her pink dress and Ann’s yellow were too short; and that all their clothes were dowdy and out of fashion. She thought that Barry was an entire stranger to her, And that shs had beer, an idiot to hope to touch the far edges of his life. She never, of course, had really hoped to enter into hjs life. She must have known that his life was full before she had ever met him. Full? Crammed with girls, glamorous girls who lived In New York and who had wads of money and clothes and chauffeurs and trips to Europe, and who cried about him. Her pink dress was too short. She had not dared take even a sip from Billy’s flask the other evening for fear—since she had never taken dps—it might go to her head and make her act silly. She couldn’t smoke; she had never got into the habit of using all this smart new slang, because Grand and Rosalie frowned so darkly at slang. Any man who was as sophisticated as Barry and who was not positively brutal would have to feel at least a stirring pity for a stupid, dowdy, provincial person who shown so plainly her—well, at least her absurd admiration for him. tt tt tt BUT for Marta she, too, might soon have been crying about that Barry McKeel. Barry would hate to have her cry. Barry would hate to have any one cry. Barry was gentle. Barry was reasonable. She had played with boys, hadn’t she? Why should not he have played with girls? Was It his fault that he had grown tired? She had done things of the sort. Nearly every one had. Refused to answer the telephone? Refused to answer notes? Well, the silly things should not have pursued him with telephone calls and notes. Even Ann (poor Ann, her yellow was away too short), as sure as she was of Phil, did not run after him. Men hated pursuit—or so Cecily had been informed. She was very glad that she had too much pride. Now if, when she went Into the street from the building this evening, Barry were not there—but he would be there. He had said that he’d be right there by the door. But if he wern’t? If she should never see him again? If he refused to answer her telephone calls? an u THEY dined in a queer, empty little place that smelled of new lumber and was stuck on the side of a hill. The food was poor, but the view out across the wide valley was a shifting harmony of misty blues'and grays merging into laven-

der and deepening to violet margins in front of a sunset spread like a Japanese fan. The waitress came and brought the ask tray Barry had asked for, and brushed at some crumbs, and moved the catsup bottle two inches, and departed. Barry said, “Cecily, do you know you are the first real friend—feminine—that I have ever had?” Frail Constance and her chauffeur walked in and sat beside him on the right, and Bea, beautiful though weeping, sat beside him on the left. Barry opened his cigaret case. “Sure you won’t have one?” he asked. Cecily, tired of looking at Conrtance and her chauffeur and Bea, ’coked again out of the window. • No, thank you,” she said. He lighted his own. “If you smoked,” he said, “I’d think it jolly and friendly; so, consistently, I’m tremendously glad that you don’t.” Constance and Bea were both smoking like real comrades and becomingly by now, so the best Cecily could do was to make fun of them. “It seems so old-fashioned for women to smoke nowadays,” she said. It didn’t ring right, and she knew it and could only hope desperately that it had not sounded as if she were foraging for praise. “But you are old-fashioned,” he said. “You are as old-fashioned as dignity, and good manners, and loyalty, and—“the hesitation was just perceptible—“love.” Since never before had he so much as mentioned love In her connection to Cecily, It could only be supposed that either Bea or Constance and her chauffeur had put him up to It. She continued gazing out of the window. “Or, as Billikens, or cruets, or chaperons?” she said. B, for Bea, and two C’s, one for Constance and one for her chauffeur. tt it HE laughed appreciatively. “You are as impersonal,” he said, “as a librarian or lily—the two most impersonal things on earth. I like ’em. They are cool and calming. You are cool, but —well, not always calming. “You never say, ‘Why am I?’ The easy lead into personalities. It’s fun when you won’t; but it trips me up and throws me headlong. You know. “You should have said, when I told you that you were the first real girl friend I’d ever had, ‘Why am I?’ or, at least, ‘Am I, really?’ and given me an opportunity to step along in my conversational stride.” “But that wasn’t what I thought, just then.” He pretended to sigh with relief. “I was half afraid you’d answer that with ‘ls that what girls always say when you make that speech?’ No. I can’t trap you into the obvious, can I, no matter how banal I am? Please do tell me now what you thought when you didn’t think. ‘Am I really?’” “I thought,” she answered, “ ‘Oh, well—one hypocrisy doesn’t make a hyocrite, nor one fib a fibber’.” He laughed again, less appreciatively. “Yes, but actually,” he insisted. “I’m not saying that I haven’t played with girls. I’m not saying that I haven’t thought I had a bad case, once or twice and for a short time.

(To Be Continued)

STICKERS

ii__ Place in the above jquares all but four of the numbers between 21 and 45, inclusive. Each ni mber used should be used but once. When the right numbers are correctly placed each column of five squares will total 165. There are three horizontal, three vertical and two diagonal columns of five squares. ji

Answer for Yesterday

m The diagram shows how a continuous fine may pass through aD 25 bars, without crossing itself or crossing any bat more than once. I J

TARZAJN AT THE EARTH'S CORE

Gridley, recovered from the mysterious blow, shouted to his companions to follow him. He pulled himself out just in time to see a bronze giant disappearing in the forest. For a moment his heart leaped within him, the figure so suggested Tarzan’s. “No,” he said to himself, “it cannot be. Thoar himself saw Tarzan carried to his room by the thidpar.” Anyway the fellow was not a Horib and Jason decided to track him, * . . • f : - i

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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WASHINGTON TUBBS II

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SALESMAN SAM

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BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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Guided only by the sickening scent of the Horib, Tarzan ran through the dark woods. Then, fearful lest he come upon them in numbers he took lightly to the trees. Soon he saw beneath him a single Horib dragging the still struggling Jana. Without a pause the ape-man launched himself like an arrow straight for the lircard-man. He struck with such force fhat the creature was half stunned as Tarzan bore him to the ground.

—By Ahem

A sinewy arm encircled his neck as Tarzan arose dragging the creature up with him. Turning quickly and bending forward, Tarzan swung the body over his head and hurled it violently to the ground, still retaining his hold upon its neck. Again and again he whipped the mighty body over his head and dashed it to the earth, while The Red Flower of Zoram, wide-eyed with astonishment at this exhibition of Herculean strength, looked on.

OUT OUR WAY'

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voo TAB IYN, I SAW MX > First, tuo, i must explain how we I DAGGER CAME TO BE ON WE ROOF. YOU M 11 ill JW|M||| SEE, \ WAS TERRIBLY FRIGHTENED WREN (/J . Wolfgang was after

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—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

At last satisfied that the creature was no more, Tarzan released it. Taking its knife, he turned to Jana. “Come,” he said, "there is but one safe place for us.” He lifted her to hisshoulder and sprang into a low-hanging branch. Once in the trees, Tarzan lowered her to her feet, and as he looked into The Red Flower of Zoram’s smile he had all the reward he desired. Only for a moment were they permitted to think they were safe.

PAGE 11

—By Williams

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martin