New Britain herald., 1922-05-08
oio11 by Louia Jossh v1ncs


 it?"
 Didn't expect me to relish 1t, did you. Cinda?"
 I'm afraid I wasn't thinking oi you at all. Dobbin. yhen took it,"
 Meaning, If you had been. you might have thought twice before talk ing?"
 No fear: was too madly in love with Bel"
 "Was?"
 "Dobbin!"
 "Sorry-didnt mean to be imper- tinent only-well, naturally, I want ed to know whether or not your ma trimonial 'inoculation had taken"
 'I think one may safely say it has. I've grown so old and wise in mar riage. 1t really seems funny to re- member l was ever an innocent"
 Its seemed a long time to me Gin da-f1ve years since these eyes were last made glad by the sight of you"
 At least, time hasn't impaired your knack at pretty. speeches"
 Nor your power to inspire them"
 I'm not so sure. To myself I seem ever 50 much older" Lucinda Druce turned full face to the man on her left, anxiety feigned or real puckering the delicately penciled brows Doesn't 1t show at all, Dobbin, the ruthless march of advancing years 9"
 The man narrowed critically his eyes and withheld his verdict as if in doubt; but corner of his mouth was twitching.
 You are lovelier today than ever, lovelier even than the memories of you that have quickened my dreams-"
 Truly, Dobbin, you've lost noth- ing of your ancient eloquence. That last speech quite carried me back across the bridge of time to the days when, more than once you all but talked me off my feet and into your arms"
 Pity I ever stopped taking"
 How direct and persistent you are It's only fair to tell you, the traditions of our kind to the contrary notwith- standing, I'm still in love with my husba Ad''
 Fo3 a moment Richard Daubeneyl was silent, staring at his plate. Then he reused with light hearted shrug) l and smile.
 Its like you, Dobbin, to start making love to me all over again, | precisely as if my being married meant nothing, in the first minutes of our meeting in five years, without offering to tell me single thing about yourself"
 Nothing much to tell. Everybody knows, when you engaged yourself to marry Druce,. rode off to the wars"
 We heard you'd later taken up ranching in the Argentine, and made a tidy fortune"
 T didn't do badly. that's a fact. But what is man profited if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul ?"
 "1s one to understand you lost your soul in the Argentine? It sounds so amusingly immoral"
 T realized down there my soul was in fair way to prove total loss So I sold out and shipped for home." ( Hoping to find me unhappy enough with Bel-?" That's unworthy of you, Cinda. No: simply to be in the same world with you.' After a little Mrs. Bellamy Druce said severely 'Dobbin, if you keep on that tack, you will make me I cross with you. How does New York s look to an exile of long standing? Much changed?" l "Oh, I don't know. Shirts and morals c a bit higher, jazz a little more so, c prohibition just what one expected society even more loosely constituted q "a vast influx of new people. I don't r know half these people. Astonishing | lot of pretty girls seem to have sprung d up since my time. Who's the raving beauty on Bill Sedleys right?" "Amelie Severn, Amelie Gloves that t was before she married. Surely you her. c Good heavens! she was in long D dresses when I saw her last" II Pretty creature. don't you think?'' s Rather. Can't blame the chap next her for his open infatuation.'' " Laughter thrilled in Lucinda's re- II ply: Why, don't you recognize him " That's Bell' h AS If the diminutiye pronounced in he clear accents of his wife had car jed through the murmur of talk, e' 3ellamy Druce looked up. Perceivng II .ucinda's smile at the end Of an aisle II # shaded lights, he smiled in turn. but d with the muscles of his face alone. Ind looking from him to the flushed ~ md charming countenance of the 'oung woman on his left, bending low o' U, 'ver her plate to hide confusion en- u by Bells latest audacity, Lu- p' inda thought, with faint pang more W W f impatience than of jealousy: He's in owe again. se
 TIT la With small sigh of animal delight .i .. n the caress of fur. and the chill, ", ,o weet draught from the open window '> pon her face, Lucinda Druce settled ack in the town-car. aware, yet | nmindful of the fluid nocturne of fifth Avenue.
 Bell had asked to be dropped at the 'rook, alleging rendezvous of one ort or another, safely masculine, of curse. Beyond ref1ecting that Bel Ias in all likelihood lying. Lucinda ad paid slight heed to his excuses. Then, too, she was not ill-pleased 'ith having herself all to herself. in his thoughtful mood which had be- ome hers since leaving the Sedleys. es'des Bel had been making too rec with the Sedley cellar. Not that z he was disposed to hold this griev- nee, thoroughgoing mondaine that ne was, saturate with the spirit of