Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1916-01-28
CHAPTER v.

Suddenly she sat up and looked
round toward the Office. She wa
keenly alive again, Immediately. If love
made her stupid and sluggish, hate
could revive her. Rosamund Gale
The sight of her stung Flodie like 6
whip. Here she was again, now, oil
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
ners, 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; 1.-THE Suf-
ragette'-Miss Gale in tailormade suit,
gesticulating; and so on-Flodie al
ways slapped the prints angrily with
an irritated "Chooi" 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 a picture of herself in the door
way. Golden fair, highly colored, pic
turesque, even voluptuous, always in
striking original costumes daringly
artistic" Rosamund, with all her
dimples, her curls, her "lines," and
her strange colors let Flodie have the
full d~isconcerting 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. "Mr.
Bonistelle is busy, Miss Gale" she
said, and walked toward the Office, as
if to brush the visitor back.
Rosamund, however, would recog.
nize no mere mental; 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 a couple of those last poses, will
you? / want to give n to a gentle
man friend. Here-take this boa out
there and hang it up, while you're 60
ing, d'you mind?"
"Oh, certainly" said Flodie, took
the boa and-an apparent accident
dropped it. Rosamund made al angry
gesture. ooh, pardon me, I'm so care
less" said Flodie. Then carrying it
artfully, SO that a full foot of it
dragged along the floor, she marched
Out of the studio, chin up.
Rosamund looked about for a ciga.
rette, and found a 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 n stocking had begun to
run" She noticed that Rosamund's
shirtwaist was not quite fresh, noticed
that her nails, though highly polished,
were not Observation-Disclosures
One heel was a bit run over; her
moonstone ring needed cleaning; lace,
part real and part imitation; eyebrows
heightened a little with the pencil;
tiny rip in her glove. There vas moth,
ing al 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 a cig?" Rosa.
mund held them up impertinently.
"Oh, don't you smoker" Very sarcas.
tic was Rosamund's tone. mo, you
don't look it, exactly" She laughed
easily, confident of her own superior
appearance.
Flodie's 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, I understand you all right. |
guess. Say, what are all those fancy
evergreen wreaths doing out in the Of
fee, anyway" She was blowing rings
very prettily.
"Oh, Mr.. Bonistelle is going to have
a party tonight"
Really? I'll have to ask him about