Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1910-10-18

instead, somewhere UP at the top OF
her voice, she said: "Oh, we. always
lock up our silveri"
but even them" he quizzed her, Il
wonder how you dare to do it?"
Perhaps we have to, because we
ourselves are all" (''without any
credentials but those you mention
she had been about to say-but there
she caught herself on the very edge of
giving herself and all the rest of them
away to him; all so awfully bored, .
she mischievously ended with the
daintiest, faintest possible yawn be-
hind her spread fan.
He looked as IL she had taken him
by surprise; then laughed out. "Oh,
that Is the way they don't do here" he
provoked her. You mustn't. when
I'm not expecting it."
Then what are you expecting?" she
inquired little coolly.
Well" he deliberated, mot expect
ing you to get me ready for a sweet,
and then pop in a pickle; ant present
ly expecting. hoping, anxiousiy antici-
PoNAht7s "hetN yOd AO0AlJ SdiG W
He was expecting, she looked mali
ciously, more than he was likely to
get; but the fact that he did see
through her to that extent was at
once delightful and charming. She
swayed back into the shadow beyond
the dazzling line of light She wanted
to escape his scrutiny, to be able to
look him over from safe vantage
ground. But he wouldn't have 1t. An
instant he stood under the torrent of
white radiance, challenging her to see
what she could-then followed her in
to her retreat. "Shall we sit here?" he
said, and she found herself hopelessly
cut off and isolated with the enemy
She couldn't withhold little grudg-
ing pleasure in the sharpness with
which he had turned her maneuver
and the way it had detached them
from the surrounding crowd. For
there, in the dusky center of the room,
it was as if they watched from safe
covert the rest of their party exposed
in the glare of light; though not, as
Flora presently noted, quite escaping
observation themselves For an in
slant Harry turned and peered toward
| them with look in his intentness
that struck Flora as something new in
him and made her wonder il he could
be Jealous. She turned tentatively to
see If Kerr had noticed it, and sur
prised his glance in quick transit
| ton back to hers.
by your leave he said, and took
away her fan, which in his hand pres
emily assumed such rhythmic motion
that it ceased to be any more present
to her than delicate current of air
upon her face.
He was not, she felt sure, in spite
| OF 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 skilful without
practice; too skilful, she feared, Tor
her defenses to hold out against If
he intended to find out what she real
ly thought. Aren't we supposed to
be looking at the pictures?" she want
ed 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
live?" 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 it. Il suppose they do 1t
here" she murmured, with a vague
glance at the paintings around her,
because people do it everywhere
else"
His disparagement was almost a
snarl That's the rotten part of tt
because they do 1t everywhere else!
| AS if there wasn't enough monotonv
in the world already without every
chap trying to be like the next instead
of being himself"
But if you have to be what people
expect?"
People don't want what they ex-
pect-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 Sc.
cret was out before she knew, and he
looked at it, laughing immoderately,
vet somehow delightfully."-
'Ah, if you think the social game is
the game that counts, | had expected
Drawer things of you. The game that
counts. my girl, he preached it 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 il he is theft" The ques-
ton was out of Flora's lips before she
could catch 1t. 1t was a challenge
Sic had meant to confound him; but
he caught 1t as If 1t delighted him.
We'll, what would you think?'
He threw it 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 wonderful
ly put his hand under a glass case and
drawn out the Chatworth ring.
"Oh," she laughed obviously, Il sup
pose he is a good one as long as he
isn't caught
What" His face disowned her
"Iou think he's a renegade, do you
chap in perpetual fight. taking
I things because he has to, more or less
pursued by the law? Bah, It's q
guild as old, and deal more honor
able. than the beggar's. Your good
thief is born TO it. It's his caste It's
in his blood 1t isn't money that he
wants. If he had million he'd be