The Birmingham age-herald., 1923-04-01
K. CRAY, his legs dangling, was seated on gray stone wall which bordered a portion of the Corniche

AOdu, SHiohlHS d very SOOu CiSdf ne was at peace with himself and the world. About hundred yards lower down. his chauffeur was engaged in tedious but necessary pairs to the limousine drawn up under the shadow of a eucalyptus tree.
 MT. Cray was not in the least hurry to resume his journey. Motoring in these lofty attitudes made no great appeal to him. He was thoroughly contented here, basking in the warm sunlight of France, enjoying his cigar, and lazily speculating as to the doirgs of mysterious crowd of people of whom he could catch glimpses every now and then, moving about be- hind the trees on the other side of the road.
 A gate exactly opposite to him, leading into an orchard, was suddenly opened, ard young woman made her unexpected appearance She was becomingly dressed, pretty, although obviously addicted to the use of strange cosmetics, and she crossed the road toward him with a friendly smile. MT. Cray, whose sole desire at that mos ment was for companionship, raised his hat.
 'sGood morning. he ventured.
 "Good morning." she replied pleasantly. q wonder if you have such thing as an English match? I can't get these horrid French things to strike"
 Mr Cray at once produced well-filled box.
 "Help yourself" he invited generously. "Fill your own box if you've got one. There's very little in this quarter of the globe that isn't good enough for Joseph P. Cray, but the match proposition is about as bad one as ever I've struck"
 The young lady accepted his offer with out demur, lighted a cigarette and leaped nimbly on to the wall by his side.
 "So your name is Joseph F. Cray?" she remarked affably. "You're American. of course? My name is Daisy Lindel. Ever seen mel"
 MT. Cray shook his head respectfully.
 q can't say that I have" he admitted. "I've pretty good memory for faces like yours, too. Have you been in these parts long?"
 ~ She laughed gayly.
 q didn't mean seen me about. l meant on the films'
 "God bless my soul" MT. Cray exclaimed "That.s what all those people are doing on the other side of the wood, suppose kACCOuHlS TOT your makeup, too.
 The young lady nodded, taking out pocket looking glass and studying her self
 q do look pretty beastly, don't I?" she observed, dabbing her face here and there with handkerchief. "Id have explained when l came up, but thought you knew what we were doing"
 "That's all right" MT. Cray assured her. 'Glad of your company. I can see you've a real pretty face under your makeup"
 "You Americans are so forward" she murmured.
 "We know good things when we see them," MT. Cray declared. "Doing a film, eh? Well. that is interesting. Whats the story?"
 'Too long to tell you," she replied. "The point is, there's murder at that cottage opposite, and the body's dragged out, into that wood. They've been hauling a poor fellow about there until he declares he hasn't sound bone in his body.'
 "Pretty strenuous, that" MT. Cray re- marked. "Kind of peaceful place for murder"
 / They both gazed at the little dwelling OppOSltt IL was d lOIlS OHe-SIOTy cottage, half-covered with Towering creeper, with a small garden in front and gate leading into the orchard.
 "Just the kind of-place," the girl mur- mured, ''to make one feel really sentiment tai. One can imagine perfect love story being lived there, so different from our sordid little flirtations and make-believes."
 She looked dreamily across the strip of