Americus times-recorder. [volume] (Americus, Ga.) 1891-current, 1913-01-12
HIS BLESSED DAMOZEL
BY IzoLA FORESTER.


Paris" and here on top of the dusty
calf-bound folios lay the fragile, fra
grant volume.
1t was fragrant. He lifted it eau
tiously to his face. The soft hand
fooled, fawn leather was odorous with
some indefnable scent that stole along
the nerves and stirred old dreams.
Creston half closed his eyes and
thought of wide desert reaches and a
little purple silhouette of moving
camels splashed up against the golden
sky.
He stood moment, crushing it
irresolutely in his hand, rolling the
velvety leather, feeling the exquisite
texture of the paper, running his eyes
over the old familiar lines,
1.-THE Blessed Damozel leaned out,
From the gold bar of heaven"
How under the light of Manhattan's
sky had Rosetti's ethereal lady of the
deep blue found her way on those
huge dusty architectural tones in
fuckers bookshop?
"ErTucker, you might put this in
with the rest" Creston remarked quite
casually, when he had finished his
selections.
Old Tucker glanced sidelong from
the book he was enjoying.
That one, Mr., Creston?" he asked,
sitting up suddenly.
This little book of Rosetti selec-
tons"
mot for SALE" returned Tucker.
1.-THE book does not belong to me-"
Creston looked at the inner blank
leaf. 1t bore a name, Wanda
Philips" 1t sang in his brain as he
went out
Every time he came back to the
shop he found the little book in its
place on top Of Nuremberg etchings
and old Munich studies. And each
time he held it, he would look at the
name and turn the pages over with
a curious thrill Of expectancy.
How long will you wait for her to
come back?" he asked one day.
Tucker glanced up sharply as If
someone had broken lock on very
private drawer in his life.
She may come any day." he told
him gruff1y. 1T stays there until she
does"
Il would be willing to return it to
her if you know where she lives?
Tucker considered the request,
stroking his white beard thoughtfully.
Suddenly the old fellow tilted his
head to one side and chuckled.
She left in a tiff, Mr.. Creston.
She had been dropping in here of and
on for a year, picking up one book
after another One day found that
volume of Rosetti and 1t seemed to be-
long to her. The day she left it, she
came to sell me back two or three
books, and / would not take them"
You've wasted time waiting for her
to come back. Tell me where she
lives, and / will take the book back.
Let me take the book with me now. "
Take it" said Tucker, slowly.
Creston went down Lexington ave-
nue. straight towards his own home
square. But 1t is a curious square.
One short block makes all the differ
ence in it's caste environment. Cres-
ton occupied very comfortable bach
elor suite on its south side, The old
studio building was east Of Third
avenue.
He was bending over the narrow
line of name plates at the press
buttons when he caught the scent,
and turned. She was slipping her key
into the lock of the door, splender
girl with a mass of wind blown red
dish hair, and an eager, ivory white
face. 1t was his Blessed Damozel with
New York snow fakes on her little
fur toque, and even in the narrow
marble vestibule he knew that faint
fragrance that had chung about the
little book. He drew it from his coat
pocket and held 1t out to her.
"Oh, where did you get it?' Just
the least emphasis on the pronoun.
Mr.. Tucker was certain you had
been i'll, or you would have come for
it,"
He sent you with IT." He liked
the little ring of challenge in the tone
Of this. Il thought had lost 1t some
where else"
II tried to buy 1t from the old man,
but he would not sell Of course" he
stumbled On recklessly. You see 1t
is a very rare little book. l wanted
to copy one or two bits from 1t II /
might. l would return 1t soon"
She held 1t out to him quickly.
IF you are friend Of Mr., fuckers,
| don't mind"
II am friend" said Creston, grave.
ly, "and more, l am your neighbor. l
live just over in Gramercy park"
You might mail it." she suggested.
81 don't want to mail It,"
Tucker hardly seemed to notice
either Of them the next day. He sat
buried behind a newly discovered
treasure while they talked.
THE book Is up in my den, Tucker,
and so is she. We were married yes.
terday."