The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1912-10-02

his lIIlIuaCuldCe afternoon trousers and
babe his friend curt good-by.
Tillinghast was horrible example even
in the Van Rensselaer, Club, where wealthy
idlers were the rule. 1t was said that he
would sit up all night rather than take his
shoes off alone if his man were not there
to put the trees in them. Some pitied him
for having absolutely no ambition, further
than that of spending his hundred thousand
dollar year income.
He stepped into his limousine at the
door and sat for several minutes, wondering
vaguely what to do with the afternoon.
ooh, | ought to pick out some place-cards
for the dinner tomorrow" he sighed guilt
lily. "No, I'll not! It's quite too tedious"
Through the speaking tube he abruptly
ordered his driver to take him to 244 West
Thirty-ffth Street.
Sinking back comfortably on the cushions
he pressed the button at his side and out
slid little gold cigarette box, the cover
open. Tillinghast idly selected a cigarette
and pulled it meditatively until the car
came to stop before his number.
He threw the stump away reluctantly
and sauntered up the steps to the dingy,
brown-stone front, as though bent on an
afternoon call. A down-at-the-heels wo-
man, with brilliant eyes and a complexion
to match, which showed the ravages of
time and pigment, answered his ring.
"May see Miss McArthur?" he asked.
The woman looked at him, her face
twisted into an uneasy smile.
"You amt a reporter or anything like
that" she queried.
"No," answered Tillinghast, "I'm afraid
I couldn't qualify. If you will tell Miss
Macarthur believe can give her some
information concerning the lady she is
advertising for, I think she will see me-"
"She hasn't been seem anybody for .
week or two, sir.
"Not i'll, I hope?"
"No, but she's not seem anybody. I'll
tell her you're here, though"
She disappeared and in a moment re-
turned to direct Tillinghast to the parlor
floor room
Nothing cheap about Miss Macarthur"
observed Tillinghast, as he raped at the
high panelled door, Itzgided open some
three inches and he caught a glimpse of bold
brass bed within, and faring curtains of red
silk at the window. He could see nothing
more, but easily imagined the rest. 1t was
typical room of a burlesque star, a second
woman with musical comedy, or hundred
dollar woman in vaudeville. Something
quite above the Thespian average in rooms,
but somewhat below the real thing.
"You have information about Nine
Flaubert7 "icame a charmingly modulated
voice from within. q
Marvelling at its freshness and wishing
for glimpse of the occupant of the room,
Tillinghast replied that he did know some
thing of the lady In question, and asked if
he might come in.
~ would prefer you didn't" there was
slight panied catch in the splendid voice.
Cant you tell me through the door,"
"A key-hole conversation is seldom salts
factory" answered Tillinghast, consuming
curiosity wearing through the thin glaze of
his accustomed lassitude "What is the
great mystery? Are you yelled lady of
the Orient--or lately landed mermaid?"
"Nooo-o-neither," the voice answered,
"but I wish-Oh! You may come in"
At that moment the door opened abruptly
and Tillinghast stepped into the spacious
back parlor room. The woman had backed
toward one Of the windows; her profile was
lost as she looked through the pane, turning
her face almost completely from him But
the poise of her head, adapted so well to the
grace of her figure, made charming picture.
The flush on her cheek, heightened by the
glowing reflection from the red silk curtains,
and the rich curve to her lips; the refine
ment in every line, took T1linghast's breath
He had expected to find cornmoner type.
"I'm sure" he gasped, "you are much
better without the veil-or the tail"
She snatched the curtain back with a
tragic jerk and the unsoftened light from
the window Illuminated the other side Of
her face with CHASTITY cruelty. A red scar
smeared across the wen-formed cheek, the
skin seemed sallow in comparison, even the
nose appeared bumped, and her lips surely
dropped to trembling pout on that side
She looked horrid bag, and Tilinghast
clutched bis stick nervously.
"That sides my own!" she exclaimed
bitterly. Now can you see why I'm anx-
ious to find Nine. Flora Flaubert?"
"Did she leave you like that?" cried
Tillinghast, quite unnerved by the sight of
the female Jason.
eyes, she fixed one side all right, burned
the scar on the other, and then left it the
way you see it. It's the comparison that
makes it so bad Oh, I wish I'd never gone
to her. My face was really all right before"
"But what did Flaubert leave you like
this for?"
"Spite, I guess" she replied with pitiful
hopeless gesture. Three days ago went
RI fhe plaza yelled tn oct the other side