The Yale expositor., 1921-08-18
An
Adventure
Romance

and get away with II. She won't look
over her shoulder and read the record
of an endless losing run on the black"
Miss Van Il. smiled.
I'm already beginning on my re-
ward" she said. you've never talked
so well before in your life."
"It's more than talk" said Bobby,
flushing angrily. "And the ways Of
access that you have imagined!" he
continued. you read happy stories
to the public taste of midinettes, show
room girls, and dress-models, and per-
haps you think they mirror the life.
Why, Madge, the taunts that those
girls fling indifferently at virtue and
at vice are so vile that they couldn't
be repeated even among half-decent
men. And the other way, the private
door for the private secretary. That's
a road Of burned bridges. Every
man, decent or indecent feels a queer
sinking of the heart when he hears of
woman taking It." He looked at her
shrewdly. "And yet you may do IT,"
he said, half TO himself. IF you are
one of the hungry women, God help
you, for they all walk blindfolded."
'They don't walk" said Madge,
flushing, and her eyes cleaning
strangely. That's just the point: they
rush, whirl, and"
And crash" finished Bobby.
That's the very word" said Madge.
hn xxyox
started, I'd love to talk to you all
night"
mo chance OF that" said Bobby,
straight-lIpped. I'm through, and I'm
going" He turned toward the door.
Not without kissing me good-by,
Bobby" cried Madge.
He looked over his shoulder with
polite but impersonal smile.
I'm not much on kissing strange
women" he said lightly. "It would
take me years to learn to kiss you
again."
He left the room and the house.
With his top-hat pushed back on his
head, the ends Of his muffler flying
loose, his overcoat half unbuttOned
he swung up the deserted lower
reaches Of the Avenue, punctuating
his thoughts with the solid rap Of his
stick on the pavement. II might be
supposed that he was thinking and
mourning over the sudden demise Of
the Miss Van Teller he had thought
he had known for many years. but
such was not the case.
Mr. Randolph was not built on
mourning lines; at the moment under
review. he was thinking about himself
and the strange fate that had made
him foster-child Of fortune. He pro-
ceeded to look back ten years. Just a
decade ago he had had his one meet
ing with the young lady whose disap-
pearance had brought him an unstable
affiuence. 1t had taken place on this
very avenue and less than forty short
blocks away. He had reason to re-
member the encounter. for II had
brought into sudden conjunction a
lovely Persian cat, a lovely wire-haired
terrier. a lovely child, and himself.
The cat had dashed from a proud
street under the nose Of a taI-cab !:
the dog had flown in yapping pursuit
and, In the act, yanked his young mis-
tress of her pins. he, Mr.. Randolph,
had seized one Of her flying feet,
hauled her and the terrier back to
safety, and no sooner placed her up
right and smoothed down her absurdly
short skirts than he, she. and especial
ly II, the dog. became the center and
circumference Of an animated pin
wheel.
Her mistaken determination to hold
to the leash, whatever happened,
brought disaster. The said leash
wound three times round her ankles
and those Of Mr.. Randolph, bringing
them both down kerplunk and facing
each other. my, what a bumpw she
had cried, in startled tones, and then
thrown back her curly head and
laughed.
a child Of ten or eleven summers and
no winters, merry as sunny day,
dark-haired, dark-eyed, pink-cheeked,
pampered but unspoiled. She had
risen and taken his hand. told him
her name. thanked him, ordered a
| fiurried nurse to thank him, shaken
her finger at the terrier, and said,
"Good-by" and "Come on, Maggie" all
1 10 -. "a