Indianapolis Times, Volume 44, Number 292, Indianapolis, Marion County, 17 April 1933 — Page 13

'APRIL 17, 193!

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CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE (Continued) “I've never been in love with you ®nd you've been getting to be more of a nuisance every day. I'd have stood it a little longer if you hadn't tried to pull this latest stunt *but this is too much." "You cant do that!" Rolf exclaimed. "Oh, can't I? Well, just watch me. I'm leaving tonight and I never intend to see you again as long as I live!" "But you can’t! You are my wife and I guess I have some rights. I ll have something to say—” "All right. Try saying it. I'll have you arrested for stealing my poahls if you do. You're never supported me since the day we were married. Why, I could divorce you a dozen times! Oh, I know what I'm doing—l've been talking to a lawyer thus afternoon." "You really mean that?” She picked up a wrap and drew it around her shoulder. A small velvet bag lay on the dressing table, and she picked that up, too. "Frederick’s downstairs with mother's car," she said. "Maybe you noticed. If you have anything else to say to irr\ get in touch with Trumbull and Schaeffer. They’re my lawyers." Rolf took her arm. "Betty,” he said huskily, "couldn’t you give me another chance?” She drew away from him. "Don’t touch me!” she exclaimed. Raising her carefully painted face she added, “You thief!" CHAPTER FORTY-SIX Betty carlyle set off for Reno three days after the return of her pearl necklace. She wore a smart brown suit and a tiny, audacious hat as she boarded the train. Her lips were a bright scarlet and her lashes carefully mascaraed. There were half a dozen pieces of luggage to be carried on and stowed in the compartment. Betty kissed her mother and joked in an extremely modern fashion, but her laughter was brittle and slightly high-pitched. On the day before her departure she had amazed Janet by apologizing for suspecting her of taking the necklace. Janet was rather sorry for Betty. She was carrying on, trying to take the matter of her divorce in a flippant, sophisticated manner, but her pride had been wounded deeply. For the first time, Betty Carlyle had known humiliation and it was a bitter blow. A real estate company began showing Betty’s apartment to prospective renters at a “sacrifice price." As easily as, within a fev r hours, life had become a hideous turmoil, it drifted again into quiet routine in Mrs. Curtis’ home. Still, there was a difference. Mrs. Curtis showed it most. She tried to be philosophical and treat the situation with unconcern. There were only two persons to whom she talked about what had happened— Rachael Thornton, who had been her confidante for years, and Janet. "It’s a dreadful thing to have happen,” Mrs. Curtis told Janet, "and yet in a way I’m glad. Betty was too young to marry. And, of course, she couldn’t know what that man was. I never liked him! I couldn’t tell Betty that, but I’ve known all along he’d make her unhappy." "That man” was Rolf. It was the only way in which Mrs. Curtis ever referred to him from that day on. To Mrs. Thornton she said, “It’s not as though people look at divorces nowadays the way they did when you and I were girls. But to think this could happen to Betty—!" refused to accept invitations Oand much of the time kept, to her room. Janet found her there one afternoon sitting before a chest of drawers. The lower drawer had been pulled out, revealing stacks of old photographs, a pile of garments and children's toys. In her lap was (something white. Mrs. CtU'tis held it up. "It’s the dress betty wore for her christening,” she said. "And here is her first little pair of shoes. Aren't they tiny? Here’s a. photograph of her wearing this same dress—” The photograph showed an infant with a fuz of dark hair and a pair of solemn eyes. The handsome baby dress was decked with ruffles and lace, and one tiny hand had caught at the full skirt. “What a pretty baby!” Janet exclaimed. Mrs. Curtis nodded. “She was.” she said. "I suppose it’s foolish of me to save all these things but sometimes I like to look at them. There's another picture here I like better—” She leaned forward, sorting through the pile. “It was taken when Betty was 4 years old. Her hair always curled naturally, you know. I combed it around my finger. Oh. here's the picture!” For half an hour longer she revealed her treasures—pictures of Betty ns a school girl, dressed for her first party, snapshots at the beach and riding a Shetland pony. She showed Janet the woolly dog that had been Betty's favorite companion in her baby days and a battered doll. There was a picture of Mrs. Curtis herself with a tall young man standing beside her—j the picture made on the day she married Betty's father. Later, when Mrs. Curtis came downstairs Janet noticed that her eyes were red-lined. They had been red-lined frequently during the past week. The following morning she was ill and Dr. Roberts was called to the house. "It’s just as I've told you before," he said warningly. "You can't overdo. Mrs. Curtis, and keep your health. You musn't worry and you must have plenty of rest. The conditions is nothing to become alarmed over if you'll take care of yourself. Otherwise these spells will continue—"

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HE left with Instructions that Mrs. Curtis was to spend the rest of the week in bed. Janet came back from seeing him to the door and sank into a chair at the bedside. "Mrs. Curtis," she said, "I've been thinking you won’t need me here after Betty comes back." "Os course we'll need you." "No," said Janet firmly. "There are lots of girls who could do the , work as well as I can—or better. You won't be lonely •with Betty here. I told you several days ago I wanted to go away. To some other town. "I'd like to get a Job in an ad--1 vertising office again. I think that’s where I belong, Mrs. Curtis. Maybe some day I could work up from a secretarial job to something better. That’s what I want to do.” "But, my dear, I’d like to have you stay.” "That's what I was going to say,” Janet went on. ‘‘l'll stay until Betty comes back. Os course, I couldn't go away and leave you when you're not feeling well, but I thought I should tell you now.” "You're sure —?” "Yes. I'm sure,” Janet said quickly. "I’ve been thinking about it quite a lot.” She arose. "If I lower the blinds do you think you might be able to sleep? Dr. Roberts said you mast rest, you know.” Mrs. Curtis agreed to try to take a nap and Janet tip-toed from the room. Waiting on Mrs. Curtis, reading to her, seeing that she took her medicine and that the affairs of the household ran smoothly kept Janet from thinking too much about herself during the days that followed. H°r mind was a curious mixture of hope and despair. Rolf was going to be free now r . In a few more weeks Betty’s divorce would b'' granted. Janet had understood from Mrs. Curtis that the suit was to be uncontested. Rolf was to be free—but she had had no word from him. Did it mean he didn't want to see her? Janet thought of that night only a few weeks ago in the moonlight. Rolf had kissed her. had hinted then that all was not well between him and Betty, but she had refused to listen. Os course, he couldn’t come to the house, but he could have sent a note or telephoned. Rolf was in town, she knew. The only conclusion was that he did not want to see her. tt a npWO weeks passed and Janet -*• spent most of them in the brick house, sitting with Mrs. Curtis, occasionally going out for a brief shopping trip. Jeff telephoned to say he had been granted an unexpected vacation, Only a week, and it really was a business trip that he was to make. A few days in the New York office and a few days at one of the plants. He promised to call her as soon es he returned. She answered the telephone one afternoon, expecting to hear Jeff’s voice. It was not Jeff. Janet gripped the Instrument tightly and lowered her own voice as she,replied. Rolf Carlyle said: "Maybe you think I have a lot of nerve to ask this, but—would you go to dinner with me tomorrow night?” Janet’s throat felt hot and tight. "Why, yes,” she said. "I think I can.” "We’ll go to Reigal’s. I can’t very well come out and call for you.” There was a slight pause. "How about meeting me at the old place? Tracy’s corner. Is that all right?” Janet said that it was. She put down the telephone and hurried from the room. In a mirror in the hallway she caught a glimpse of herself and noticed how pink her cheeks were. There was a light in her eyes that had not been there. She met him the following evening just as they had planned. Rolf was waiting at the corner when Janet arrived. Reigal's restaurant was Only a few blocks away, and they walked. (To Be Continued) 7TTSGDK aTSST 6Y BRUCt CAJTON IT is just a little bit hard to see why reviewers have been waxing so indignant over Tiffany Thayer’s new book, “An American Girl.” To be sure. “An American Girl" is wilfully smutty, and its taste isn’t improved much by the leer with which it is presented; but after all. as somebody once said, nobody goes to a burlesque show expecting to see a Sunday school performance, and by the same token nobody would buy a book by Mr. Thayer in the belief that he was going to get something along the line of Elsie Dinsmore. Mr. Thayer’s public, that is. knows what to expect from him by this time. And, it must be said that he doesn't disappoint any one. "An American Girl” deals, in a hazy sort of way, with a Hollywood cutie and her adventures. My chief objection to It is not that it is offcolor, but that it is just plain dizzy. In the beginning. Mr. Thayer seems to feel like exposing the various imbecilities of movieland, and he does it very acceptably. Then he rings in an involved Graustarkian romance, wavering uncertainly between melodramatic adventure and satire. He follows that with a hilarious episode, in which America’s attitude toward visiting royalty is lampooned—and then, evidently in confusion, he heads for the bedroom, where his characters and his readers can feel at home. And the whole business really isn’t worth your while. Published by Claude Kendall, this book is priced at $2.50.

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

9 tou and your pigeons f f\ 9 CUTTING OUR UP FOR J /V J A COOP, AND BUILDING THAT /-(, ( V \ J CAGE ON THE "ROOF-—I -i V **** ] y ** s d ) \ HAVE A NOTION TO STICK YOU ) f""" u Sg/j UP IN IT AND FEED YOU ON 1 V Y dg'jr NOW, GET THIS, j / ( A J )~= PUTTY FACE:—YOU PUT J \ T 1 THAT GARAGE IN SHAPE: / V u **s : pa*° rF major? 1933 BY NCA SERVICE. V,, ***"- T KZJ ./

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

' FARBARS PUNNING TC ) f THINSFBECM.ES ) MJE HAVE TO WORK FAST. \ ) NOPE.' WE CANT TAKE 1 CAPTURE? UNCLE MARRY, \h— && 1 'A i OU7 OF BEFORE TWE - / HAVE A / hjat rUAUrP WF'i ' AND MIS YACHT, TAKE HI/A J MERE AND WARN CAPTAIN , CHANCE TO TRAP US. .. \ k GQ gACk AND TRY TO MIM S PAY R A A UUNDDFD ) BILLY BowLE<3S/ 1 THAT WOULD BE J M SNEAK THAT MACHINE j THOUSAND DOLLARS l. 1 L J

WASHINGTON TUBBS II

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SALESMAN SAM

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BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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TARZAN THE UNTAMED

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Zu-tag, filled with suppressed excitement, dropped suddenly from the tree into the midst of his tribe. The old king had seen others come thus filled with a sudden resolution to wrest the kingship from their chief. He bristled and growled.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

Baring his fighting fangs, Zu-b’yat advanced to meet the younger bull. Zu-tag told the king ape what he had seen. Zu-b'yat grunted in disgust and turned away. “Let the white ape take care of himself,” he said.

—By Ahern

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OUT OUR WAY

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“He is a great ape,” pleaded Zu-tag. “Let us save him from the Gomangani!” Zu-b’yat grunted again and moved farther away.” Zu-tag will go alone and get him,” cried the young ape, “if Zub’yat is AFRAID!” The king ape wheeled in anger, growling loudly.

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He beat upon his breast, “Zu-b’yat is NOT afraid,” he screamed, "but he will not go—the white ape in not of this tribe. Go yourself, and take the Tarmangani’s she with you if you want so much to save him.” “Zu-tag WILL go,” replied the young ape.

—By \\ illiams

—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

PAGE 13

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Mai tin