The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913, 1909-07-18


his glance In a quick transition back
TO hers
BY your leave" he said, and took
away her fan, which In his hand pres-
emily assumed such rhythmic motion
that 1t ceased to be any more present
TO her than q delicate current of air
upon her face. Her face, which in the
hrst place he had so we'll looked over.
he now looked into with something
more personal in his quest as If under
the low brows and providing lashes
there was puzzle to solve in the timid
unassured glances OF such splendid
eyes
BE was not she felt sure, in spite
or his light manipulation OF her fan,
person who cared to please women.
but one of that devastating sort who
care above everything to please them
selves and who are skillful without
practice; too skillful, she feared, for
her defenses TO hold out against II he
intended TO find out what she really
thought Aren't we supposed to be
looking at the pictures?" she wanted
to know.
He turned his back on the wall and
its attendant glare. why pictures"
he inquired. when there are live peo-
pie to look at? Pictures for places
where they're all half dead. But here.
where even the damnable dust in the
street is alive, why should they paint.
or write, or sculpt. or do anything but
nVe? His irascible brows shot the
query at her.
Again the proposition of life-what-
ever that was-was held up before her,
and as ever she faltered In the face of
II II suppose they do It here" she
murmured. with a vague glance at the
painting around her, because people
DO 1t everywhere else"
HIS disparagement was almost a
snarl That's the rotten part Of It
because they do 1t everywhere elsei
AS If there wasn't enough monotony
In the world already without every
chap trying to be like the next instead
of being himself"
All" Her small, uncertain smile in
the midst Of her outward spiendor was
pathetic But IL is different to you
You're man. You're not one of u.s."
one Of what? I'm a man I'm my
self Which, pardon me, dear lady, Is
just what you won't be-yourself."
But If you have to be what people
expect?" She slung. to her first prin-
ciple Of safety in the midst of this
onslaught.
People don't want what they expect
If you care for that He waved it
away with his quick, white hand.
But you have to care, unless you
want to be queer" Her poor little
secret was out before she knew, and
he looked at IT, laughing immoderately,
yet somehow delightfully."-
All, If you think the social game is
the game that counts! I had expected
Drawer things of you. The game that
counts, my girl" he preached 1t at her
with his long white hand, the game
that is going on out here is the big
red game of life. That's the only one
that's worth a guinea; and there's no
winning or losing, there's no right or
wrong to it. and it doesn't matter what
a man is in 1t as long as he's a good
one"
Even if he is a theft" The ques-
ton was out Of Flora's lips before she
could catch ii. 1t was a challenge.
She had meant to confound him; but
he caught it as IL it delighted him.
We'll. what would you think?"
He threw IL back at her
What hadn't she thought! How per-
sistently her fancy had played with the
question of what sort of man that one
might be who had so wonderfully nut
his hand under a glass case and. drawn
out the Chatworth ring. Why, out
wardly, he must have been like all the
crowd around him. to have escaped I'M
noticed; but. inwardly how much su-
perior in power and skin to have so
completely overreached them,
"Oh," she laughed obviously, IT sup
pose he is good one as long as he
isn't caught"
What His face disowned her.
you think he's renegade, do your
A chap in perpetual flight, taking
things because he has to, more or less
pursued by the law? Bah! It's a guild
as old, and a deal more honorable, than
the beggar's. Your good thief is born
to it. It's his caste. It's in his blood.
II isn't money that he wants. II he had
a million he'd be the same And it isn't
a mania either. It's a profession"
The Englishman leaned back and
smiled at her over the elegance Of his
long. Joined fngertips.
She looked at him with a delighted
alarm, with an increasing elation: but
whether these arose from his lawless
declarations and the singular way they
kept setting before her more vividly
moment by moment the possible char
acter of the present keeper of the Chat
worth ring, or whether it was just
the sight of Kerr himself as he sat
there that stirred her, she didn't try
to distinguish.
But suppose he was your own thief"
she urged; took your own things, 1
mean" she hastily amended, and sup
pose he turned out TO be-some one
you knew. ana liked CnG neSlIaIeQ.
She had come at last to what she really
wanted TO say She had brought out
a question that had been teasing her
fancy at intervals all the while he had
been talking, and he hadn't even heard
it. He wasn't even looking at her. She
had caught him off his guard. He was
looking across her shoulder straight
down the dim vista of the room to the
little blaze OF bordering light He was
at Harry. No, Harry was look
ing at him. Harry was looking with
a steady, an intent gaze, and Kerr
meeting tit might have been merely
the blank glare of his monocle-
seemed, to Flora, to meet it a little
insoiently. She fancied in the instant
to pass between the two
men. something which, this time. she
did not mistake for Jealousy shade
too dim for defiance or suspicion, a
deep scrutiny that struggled to place
something, some one.
Flora felt a sudden wish TO break
that curious scrutiny 1t had broken
her little moment. 1t had shattered
the personal, almost intimate note
that had been sounded between them.
The look Kerr turned back to her was
vague. and stirred in her a dim re-
that he could drop it all So
easily.