Evening star., 1923-03-18

mutsiy. She blushed. He shook his
head.
mot tho same person at ALL" he
commented In the voice that had
echoed for all those intervening hours
In Letty's cars. "If I'd seen you like
this laEt night I'd have known
better"
You thought was a tired little
working girl?"
II thought you were a splendid
little working girl, worn out after a
hard day"
She told him about the car. He lent
abstracted attention, eyes on her
lovely face.
Don't you do anything-at' all?"
She shook her head. What is
there to do? I've never been taught
to do anything. I've never had to do
anything"
Just waiting for some one to come
along and marry you?"
Anger swept Lefty and slipped away
before the understanding In his look.
Yes. that's ALL" suppose. 'It's what
the rest Of them do"
THE other pretty white peacocks?"
Not onitting the charming night
ingales and the little brown wrens." '"
said Lefty.
"Oh, you can be human. can your
He paid her tribute with a laugh.
What do you do?" asked Lefty.
There was no one in the room be-
| sides themselves.
What do l do?" He maid a cute
gesture of neGation. I'm rolling
stone. I've done bit of engineering,
I've worked on a newspaper or two.
! was in Alaska a year ago with an
exploring outfit--left 'em to work in
logging camp. Once 1 got down
to South America on some Aztec ex-
cavation stuff. I was camera-man
with a movie company that worked
| through Honolulu and Samoa"
Lefty caught her breath softly. And
what are you doing hereP''
He chuckled. That's funny-out OF
my usual trail, Why. I'm here to get
some money that was left me bit
ago. Sounds more respectable. doesn't
| Il? Well, don't know II you'd think
| so or not. The man who left 1t to
me was q barber. I'd known his son in
| Alaska. We were pals. The boy got
! caught under a tree that fell the
wrong way, and I sent his stun home.
The old chap died few months ago
and left me everything ne had"-he
| forestalled her mockingly - "about
two thousand. What a conventional
creature you are! Money doesn't
mean a thing in the world to me
except the ability to go from here to
| there without walking all the way"
I I, ,;th ha
question of his eyes.
! About you, now-you're the kind
Of woman I've been taking the other
side Of the road from all my life"
! "Why?" asked Lefty.
He travels the fastest who travels
alone'-no time for inessentials."
Lefty looked at him in silence.
| GO on" he said. al want to know
about you. You kept me awake las,
night
r ETTY told him pretty much every
l. thing. She scarcely knew her
self how frank she was. or why. II
came from her as naturally as breath
| ing.
When at last She drl1teo INTO SienCc
| he said. quietly:
"Funny-no woman of any conse-
quence in my life. and yours has
been nothing but men.
And yet. and yet-you know
| you've kept the faith You could
have married-you had your chance
to justify your training-the easiest
way was open to you-and you re-
fused It You've stood by your
| guns. eh?"
You mean" said Lefty. Her
eyes were shining.
"Of course / do! l mean you've
been true to yourself. Love was a
real thing to you-and you've wait
ed for It. Most women don't, so a
] lot OF 'em never see It,"
! The dusk was coming on. Rain
still slanted against the windows.
The air was musty and chill. The
two on the old-fashioned seat knew
an isolation and an intimacy beyond
phrasing.
Did you ever talk like this be-