The Washington times., 1923-11-30

she assigned to Elm (for the pre-.
sentD, he hated the prospect. He
was In no mood for a game"
This wooing was like nothing his
imagination had ever prefigured.
To be put on trial to SIT
with the woman in the great
solitude Of the house and tho
very air vibrating between them
or frozen self
conscious as a schoolboy up for
inspection :. agraid of max
ing a false move What
in Gods name would they talk
about? Politics? Books? Art?
Banalities! i. he'd half q
mind to go to Florida after all
or join JIM Oglethorpe In
South Carolina; he had a stand
ing invitation he'd re.
turn by the next train; he'd felt
as If existing in a vacuum ali
When he reached his rooms he
found his problem solved for the
moment possibly. A telephone
slip informed him that Madame
Zattiany would be at home, and
note from Mrs. Ogelthorpe en-
closed tickets for her box at the
opera that night
If she would cnly go!
He called the house. The but
ler answered and retired 20
summon Madame Zattiany. Her
voice came clear and cool over
the telephone. He invited her to
&C to Sherry's for dinner and to
hear Farrar in Butterfly after
ward: 81 must tell you that we
shall sit in a box" he added.
''Mrs. Oglethorpe's."
'Ohy' There was a pause that
seemed eternal. Then she laugh
&c suddenly, a laugh of intense
amusement that ended on a nota
OF reckIessness. "Well! Why
not? Yes. 1 win go. Very many
thanks"
Good. It means an early din
ner. I'll call for you at quar-
ter Of seven"
I'm promptness itself. Au
'voir."
So that was that! One nights
respite. He'd leave her at her
door. He wondered If his voice
had been as irnpersonal as her
own: he had almost barked into
the telephone and had probably
overdone it. But was any man
ever in such a CHASTITY position
before? Well, he'd lose the game
before he'd make a fool of him
self again. J. Ass he'd
had the game in his own hands
last night -. could have
switched off any moment. He'd
let go and delivered himself into
hers.
He took a cold shower, and
made a meticulous toilet.
When he arrived at the house
he was shown into the drawing
room. He had never seen it be-
fore and he glanced about him
with some curiosity. It was u
period room: Louis Quinze. The
furniture looked as If made Of
solid gold and Madame Du Barry
herself might have sat on the
dainty brocades. The general
effect was airy and graceful, gay,
frivolous and subtly vicious. IAN
emanation to which the chaste
Victorian had been impervious)
He understood why Madame Eat
tiany did not use it. She might
be subtly anything. but assuredly
she was neither airy nor friv.
olous.
Then he realized that there
was a painting of a girl over the
mantel and that the girl was
Mary Ogden. He stepped for
ward eagerly. almost holding his
breath. The portrait ended at
the tiny waist, and the stiff satin
of the cuirass.like bodice was
softened with tulle which seemed
to float about the sloping shoul-
ders. The soft ashen hair, grow
ing in a deep point on the broad
full brow, was brushed softly
back and coiled low on the long,
white neck. The mouth was soft
and pouting, with humorous
quirk at the corners, and the
large dark gray Eyes were full
Of a mocking light that seemed
directed straight into the depths
of his puzzled brsiE as he stood
once potent and long vanished
gazing at that presentment of a
beauty. Extraordinarily like
and yet so extraordinary unlike!
But the resemblance may have
well been exact when Mary Eat
tiany was twenty. How had
Mary Ogden looked at thirty?
That very lift of the strong chin,
that long arch Of nostril
something began to beat in the
back of his brain.
What a beauty poor Mary
must have been, no?'
He turned, and forgot the por-