The Washington times., 1922-02-26
Continued from Page 49,

bourne was making conversation,
excusing himself overmuch. In
deed, he went on awkwardly, well,
Miss Neale, you start. I'm afraid
it's tame sort of game"
wait and see," cried Patricia
with sudden brilliance. whether /
give you a tame sort Of game"
For some time Mrs. Caldecot
watched the two, smiling at the
childish game and feeling rather out
of it. She didn't say anything dur
ing Patricia's atrocious exhibition
OF Workmanship, and SO felt I'M
able to comment on Rodbourne's
performance. At the third round
she felt extraordinarily self-con.
scious and forced herself to say
something. Thus she found herself
applauding or deprecating every
shot, feeling herself every time
more unnecessary and irrelevant,
knowing that she was saying silly
things and not being able to stop.
as IL something had got loose in her
mind.
They did not take much notice
of her, for chance made 1t a very
close game, and so Mrs. Caldecot
had to watch them-the man hand.
some as ever, the girl newly radi-
ant. 1t was then that Bob, VINO
was short of darts, looked about the
floor, and Mrs. Caldecot, at whose
feet one had rolled after rebound
ing from the floor, bent down to
pick 1t up; the novel, unregarded,
slipped off her knees:
AS she handed the dart to Rod
bourne for a second their fingers
touched. He smiled into her eyes
with an air OF good understanding,
but he upset her, for he did not take
the opportunity to press her fingers.
He who had not kissed her, seen
her that day? Hating herself. Mrs.
Caldecot realized that he could have
done It, for Patricia was bending
down, collecting darts for herself.
It lasted only a second. but Rod
bourne must have been vaguely
conscious of disturbance, for now,
as he played, he turned to Mrs. Cal
deceit and made comments on his
play, while she listened in silence.
She could not help feeling that Bob
was trying to drag her into a rela-
tionship where she had no place.
That was awful. Bob was trying to
give her a show, but he couldn't
do 1t.
Then her pride revolted; let him
do what he liked after all. And,
anyhow. she couldn't bear II any
more. So, in a voice made false
by jauntiness, she said: well, l
think I'll leave you children to your
violent sports" and left the room.
The two went on for a little
while. The hundred up was APP
preaching it's conclusion. for Rod
bourne had scored eighty-two to
Patricia's seventy-six. They stop
ped for a moment before the last
round, and Bob, conscious of the
disturbance he experienced through
WI y. SdlutCOl cot, houhu MIN
self needing small talk.
Now for the grand excitement,
Miss Neale. You're twenty-four
down, but you can do 1t II you get
five flukes."
You're a Judge of flukes," re-
piled Patricia, Judging from your
practicing this in London"
Patricia had not thrown the
dart, but stood looking at him ser
iously: "Oh, no, I'll be much too
busy. It's not like being at home"
"Ah, yes" said Rodbourne, feel.
ing a little uneasy because he
found pleasure in this idea. you're
going to be in town now. You
didn't tell me where your mother
had taken a house?"
"In Old Quebec street. Such a
dear little house. with a news at
the back. It will be like home,
hearing the horses kick"
He laughed: But you're not
coming to town to hear horses