The Spectator., 1915-11-05
CHAPTER V.

round toward the office. She was &eenly alive again, immediately. If love made her stupid and sluggish, hate could revive her. Rosamund Gale! The sight of her stung Flodie like whip. Here she was again, now, of all times, when everything was askew, Rosamund Gale, the professional model, Rosamund the beautiful, Rosa mund the arrogant, the spoiled! Flo die disliked her, from her hair to her heels, disliked her name, her man. mers, her reputation, and, most of all. her photographs. Hall Bonistelle used her often for his commercial pictures which he sold for advertisements, for magazine covers, for art supplements. "Spring"-Miss Gale in damp cheese cloth with apple blossoms; The Sui tagette"-Miss Gale In tailormade suit, gesticulating; and so on-Flodie al- ways slapped the prints angrily with an irritated "Choo!" before she put them away. She would have been glad to slap Rosamund. Hall posed her, ar ranged draperies. touched her hair. moved her hands-all exquisite agony for Flodie.
 Say, where's Hall" Rosamund made picture of herself in the door, way. Golden fair, highly colored. pie turesque, even voluptuous, always in striking original costumes daringly ''artistic," Rosamund. with all her Slimples, her curls, her ''lnes," and her strange colors let Flodie have the full disconcerting effect of her beauty. She had the air of one who is quite used to being stared at and admired.
 Flodie rose, her face set. MT said, and walked toward the office. as If to brush the visitor back.
 Rosamund, however, would recog- nize no mere menial; she swept into the studio as if she owned the place. ''All right, I'll hang round a while till he's free. Say, Miss Fisher. fish me out couple of those last poses. will you? I want to give one to gentle man friend. Here-take this boa out there and hang 1t up, while you're go- ing, dyou mind?"
 "Oh, certainly!' said Flodie, took the boa and-an apparent accident dropped it. Rosamund made an angry gesture. ''Oh, pardon me. I'm so care less" said Flodie. Then carrying it artfully, so that full foot of it dragged along the floor. she marched out of the studio, chin up.
 Rosamund looked about for ciga- rette, and found box on a tabouret. "Oh. Miss Fisher!" she sang, bring me a match, will your" Then she yawned, and threw herself lazily on the couch. She began to whistle.
 Flodie. returning. noticed that Rosa mund showed too much silk stocking, also that one stocking had begun to run" She noticed that Rosamund's S shirtwaist was not quite fresh, noticed that her nails, though highly polished, were not bsolutely-well-chas One heel was a bit run over; her moonstone ring needed cleaning; lace, part real and part imitation; eyebrows heightened little with the pencil; tiny rip in her glove. There was noth- ing an ordinary man would have seen, nothing that would have hurt, for him, the whole effect, even had he seen it; but Flodie saw and damned and said no word.
 Here are the matches, Miss Gale I'll look up the prints this afternoon. when l have more time"
 "Oh. thanks. Have cig?" Rosa mund held them up impertinently. ''Oh. don't you smoke?" Very sarcas tic was Rosamunds tone. No, you don't look it, exactly" She laughed easily, confident of her own superior appearance.
 Flodies lips grew white; it would not take much more to make her cry. "Oh, I'd hardly expect you to under stand" she managed to say, and turned to go.
 "Oh, understand you all right, I guess. Say. what are all those fancy evergreen wreaths doing out in the of flee. anyway?" She was blowing rings very prettily.
 "Oh, MI. Bonistelle is going to have . party tonight"
 "Reallr? I'll have to ask him about that" flhe examined her finger nails. sI belicte I'll come"
 I'm sorry. but the invitations were all sent out over week ago. Miss 0ale.'
 "Mine must have been addressed wrong"
 II don't think ever make that kind q mistake"
 "No." said Rosamund deliberately