Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1919-05-01

cant no less than religion.
One day, toward the end of her first
week, she was startled to find before
her a card bearing the legend Duane.
Thomas" His address was given, and
the facts that he had bought the three
quarter morocco Balzac. the half.
leather Fielding and Smollett, and the
levant Court Memoirs. He had not
yet taken the bait for the De Maupas-
SAINT.
Daphne pondered his card and his
taste. She was shaken from her pen
siye mood by the sudden commotion
Of all the ONE ALI eyes had seen
the minute and the hour hands in con-
junction at XII. Names were left off
in the middle; pens fell from poised
hands.
+ Daphne found herself alone. She
was glad of the quiet and the solitude,
while it lasted-which was not long,
for Gerst came back Unexpectedly
early,
His eye met Daphne's. He started
toward her, and then, seeing that she
glanced away, went on to his desk.
He stood there manifestly irresolute a
moment. He glanced at Daphne again,
at the fire escapes, at the empty room.
Then he went to the first of the tables
and with labored c~arelessness inspect
ed the work of the absentee. He drift
ed along the aisle toward Daphne,
throwing her now and then an inter-
rogative smile that filed her with q
fierce anxiety.
She knew his reputation. She had
seen his vulgar scufles with some of
the girls, had heard his odious words.
She was convinced that he was about
to pay her the horrible compliment of
his attention.
Her heart began to futter with fear
and wrath. She felt that if he spoke
to her she would scream /; if he put his
hand on her shoulder or her chair she
would kill him, with a pair of scissors
or the knife with which she scraped
off blots. . No, she must not kill
him. But she would have to strike
him On the mouth.
But that meant instant dismissal at
the very least. He might smash his
fist into her face or her breast or
knock her to the floor with the back
of his hand. She had seer too much
of life recently to cherish longer the
pretty myth that the poor are good to
the poor. She had seen how shabby
women Jared with street car conduct.
ors and subway guards. She had seer
her W prestige dwindle as her
clothes lost freshness.
But the violence of Gerst's resent
ment would be a detail. The horror
was the mere thought CT his touch.
She rose quickly and tried to reach
the fire escape. That was the solu-
tion-to join the crowd.
But Gerst filled the aisle. She sided
past two tables into the next aisle. He
laughed and sided across to the same
aisle. She tried to hasten by. He put
his arms out and snickered:
"What's the rush, grille? Nobody
hOllered Fire
"Let me pass, please" she mumbled.
wait ia minute, wait ia minute.
What d you say if l was to asst you
to go to a show tanight, huh? What'd
you say?"
'Thank you. / have another /.
couldn't"
Smother eve, then? Or to a dance,
huhT"
"Thank you, I'm afraid l can't"
"Why not? Come on! Why not1
Amt 1 got class enough for your
"Oh yes, but Please, let me BY"
He stared at her. and his hands
twitched, and his lips. His eyes ran
over her face and her bosom as if she
were a forbidden text. She was try
ing to remember what Duane had told
her about the way to quell a a
With great difficulty and in all trepi-
dation she parroted her old formula.
mn. Gerst, you don't have to f1irt
with me. | don't expect. it, and I don't
like it, so please let me 60"
He stared at her, trying to under
stand her amazing foreign language.
Then he shifted with amused unbelief,
dropped his hands, ard stood aside.
Daphne could hardly believe her
eyes. The charm had worked the third
time! She darted forward to get away
before the spell vas broken. AS she
passed him-whether he suddenly
changed his mind or had only pretend
ed to acquiesce-he enveloped her In
his arms.
She almost swooned in the onset of
fear and the suffocation of his en-
brace. Then she fought him, striking.
scratching, writhing. He crowded
her against the nearest table and tried
to reach her lips across her left elbow.
Her outflung right hand struck
against an inkwell, recognized it as a
weapon Of a sort, and, clutching it,
swept it up and emptied it into his
face.
His satyric leer vanished in a black
splash. His hands went to his
drenched eyes. Daphne, released,
dropped the inkwell and fled to the
locker-room while he stamped about,
bowling like the blinded Cyclops.
Daphne did not STAY to taunt him nor