Smyrna times., 1903-09-02

popular young club man, stood under
an unsheltered gas jet in the back
aisle of famous New York bookshop,
his hat and coat discarded, all sense of
his surroundings gone, the time for
dressing for a formal dinner creeping
periously near, while his eyes remain
ed fixed on the pages of book.
"Will you kindly attend to me?"
There was asperity IN the drawing
voice.
John came out of his unreal world
and found himself between the shelves
of books, young woman of brilliant
blonde beauty standing before him,
her eyebrows met in a small triangular
frown.
Il bought this book an hour ago, "
and she placed a package before him
while glancing around the shelves.
II bought it for friend to read on
journey. At luncheon 1 glanced
through it. It's simply deadly. [
want it exchanged"
Johns expression would have be-
trayed him, but the pretty customer
was not looking at him. It never oc-
Cured to her that "people who sold
things" conductors, elevator boys or
walters had faces to be looked at and
were of themselves quite as conspi-
cuous in the scheme of things as she
was.
Sac moved about, pulling back,
while addressing the air.
There's no objection to exchanging
it, l supposed"
No certainly not.
Once the words had passed his lips
he felt himself committed to the sit
uation. Besides it might be inter
esting to study a society girl from the
standpoint of a poor clerk who sold
books in a gaslit shop, while the world
of fashion walked and drove in the
winter sun.
''I'm in something of a. hurry" she
said over her shoulder, an ingredient
in her voice which made him feel al
together clerk aud nothing of an in
dividual.
''If you will kindly make a selec-
ton" he said entering with secret
delight and some fear into the new
role.
She did not seem to hear him, but
moved about, her pale gray velvet
skirt making marks in the dust on the
floor.
Every wealthy, [ imagine" mused
John. ga beauty, and horribly aware
of it. She has a manner that would be
called insolent if she were plain. 1
don't believe she was always rich-it's
like wine in the blood. Has she
brains? Not enough to make her un-
comfortable I'll look at this book
she's brought back. That will tell me
something of her mental equipment
He removed the wrapping and
glanced at the title. "'The Fates Are
Three" He drew a quick breath and
his ears grew red He was angry
then humbled. The abused novel was
his own work, the latest novel, the
''hit" of the season, which had opened
wide the domains of reputation anc
money to him. The literary father
hood within him was hurt, but he de
cded to push the steel farther.
eve sell a great many of "The
Fates Are Three" he said almost wist
fully.
II have heard so, " she said, whirlins
the pages of book.
"May 1 ask why you don't like it:
We er-we value an expression o
opinion from our customers" and h.
felt all deceit.
'Oh, it's one of those deep things
no swing to it, It's stupid, that's all.
''But Mr.. Murray has the critics OF
his side"
She lifted her brows, but did no
trouble to answer.
'Ill take this"-laying a pearl-col
Ored volume before him with sprays o
orange blossoms as decoration. 81
there any difference in the price,"
Johns amour propre came out OF 1t
corner and mounted on a dias whel
he saw the mental meringe which re
placed him: "Wedded, But Nc
Mated" by Angelina Dalrymple.
twenty-five cents, " he said brlskl
wrapping the book up. 'Shall sem
it for you?"
''Yes-to Miss Glendenning. No
Fifth Avenue.
While he wrote the address SD
swept away, leaving violet fragranc
in the musty corner. John locke
after her with bit of malicious hr
NOR.
Miss Glendenning- ld'
who raves over The Fates Are Three
and is 80 anxious to meet me becaus
I'm the author of it. I'll get eve
with bar for fbia -