New Britain herald., 1922-07-14
The Question the Don's Handkerchief
 Brought to Madge.

What nieky terms the wheels" ir my head revolved much faster than the automohle-motor on our return from the shopping expedition to East, hampton upon which my mother-in, law had insisted. The reappearanee upon my harizon Of the mysterious Don Ramon Almirez, with him melo- dramatic message to my father had set my imagination and my eonjec- lures whirlins
 That he was someone l had known I was sure by this time--as sure as l was that the name by which the Southampton war-enriched family had accosted him, was q mask akin 10 his snowy moustaohios and beard and his thick lensed glasses, And, exasperat. insly elusive, there Heated through my consciousness the Knowledge of the Identity that was his l felt as though at any second might solve the riddle of his personality and I was annoyed beyond measure at the dulness of my own perceptions.
 T wish I'd had a better look at that Don whatever fancy name he  voice sounded querulousy from the tonneau. I was planning to give him a good square look when l passed him, but he had that fit of coughing and got out before I could get down there. But told you he looks like somebody I've seen before, Wish could remember, who it was. Don turn this corner. Go on around the wood road to Sag Harhor, The mail must be in by this time, and if you don't care anything about hearing from Richard. I do, There's surely d letter there by this time"
 I was so relieved at her change of subject that I scarcely noticed the feline little dig accompanying her de- mand to be taken to the post office. At that told myself half-g -guiltily, her fling was partly justified. I would have been glad, of course. to hear from Diclly, but I was not anxious enough about it to make a special trip to the post office upon the exceed inly remote possibility that I would find letter from him awaiting me. He is never an assiduous correspon-
 
 believe that his present sojourn in q luxurious Adirondack camp as the guest of a successful author whose forthcoming book he is to illustrate, would effectually Hull his epistolary conscience to sleep.
 q Hope You're Sattsfiel."
 Conscience compelled me to admir-. however, that my knowledge of Dicky's dilatoriness or even my pique at his reference to Edith Fairfax be- fore her left, were not wholly re- sponsible for my indifference to his letters I had been so absorbed in the melodramatic sequence of events which Lillian, Allen Drake and my father were gating-and in which I had just played a role at least something better than a walking part"-that I had forgotten even the vague feminine resentfulness which had come to me when I had learned of his being invited without me to the wonderful summer camp.
 Turning obediently into the wood road as my mother-in-law had di- rected, I made q feeble attempt to oelN v lily AdNt Nllll Ill Obstl dltO!l lO the effect that Jerry Ticer had gone for the mail every day. But the process, so successful with our Chinese friends, failed dismally when con fronted with my mother-in-laws cap tious mood
 Yes, that's the trouble with the mail she rejoined tartly. That Jerry Ticer doesn't know he's on earth