The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1925-11-09

with her, except John, so she de-
cided to just let it go at that. He'd
help her, too, to reason out some
thing about the thing that happened
to her She, by herself, simply
couldn't.
BY late afternoon, what with some
hectic scrambling into and out OF
her taxicab, she was ready for her
descent upon the silk counter. She
tried to forego that logical detail Of
the day, but couldn't. Courageously,
she had sighted the shops and stores
where girls of the counters and Of
fees got their copies of Avenue
modes. She boldly went onto the
avenue itself, even into the upper
section, where, to be admitted as a
patron, is an award of honor which,
earned, brings a marvellous defer
ence, and where she was called Ma
demoisesse." The result felt upon
the silk counter as a sudden breath
Of some exquisite narcotic that
sweeps the senses into appalling
eecstacy.
Joanna had timed her visit clever
ly; she appeared during the lull be-
tween the leisurely shoppers who fin
ish early and the last-minute crush
of the hurrying, belated ones. Trail
ing behind a spacious grande dame
who was threading her way through
the aisles, she suddenly stood at her
old counter, only on the other side
of it, her gray gloved fingers tap
ping sharply on the polished wood,
in obvious imitation of the depart
ment buyer. With her roguery dane
ing out of her eyes at every face
behind the counter-the faces of her
workaday friends, she purred,
sweetly:
Good morning, young ladies'" At
that moment Joanna's voice was the
silver tinkle of ineffable inner har-
monies.
Store patrons sitting at the
counter, curiously to scan the new
conner. In the attitudes Of the girls.
who served them, they sensed
drama.
1t was George, Joanna best chum
and also one of Mrs Adams flap
pers, who was first to find her
tongue:
Good Lordr she breathed. Look
what the stork's dropped!'
Then there was a rush. joanna
without ceremony. oblivious to
customers with pillows Of varicolored
silk in their hands, stepped back in.
to the aisle and swung around for
inspection.
Miss Twenty-seven" had become
the slender wrath Of hot house
flower all perfume, softness and
delicate color; beneath her mink
wrap she shone vaguely gray; smart
grey tailleur that fell straight from
undeath her shoulders, but Rugged
her hips; skirt that dropped into
straight lines without a touch Of
trimming or vagrant pleats or cQlors
thing that was infinitely and ex.
pensively, Avenue" gray sheer
hose of a quality that echoed into
the very souls of George and the
rest! Slippers. slippers that were
wondrous things Of some skin with
the sheen of gray velvet! A ravishing
little hat, grey with splash Of a
scarlet at the side. George estimated
the very simplicities Of that hat as
next door to being pricelessl
A single flower, but that one an
orchid, nestled at Joanna's waist.
There was an immediate babel Of
voices, punctuated presently by the
sharp reminder of an impatient
customer that there were those with
wants to be attended to.
80 you weren't fired after all?"
George exclaimed. when she had
summoned her wits. Here we've
been picking out the hymns for your
funeral all day and you-you've
pulled off whatever you've pulled
off! Let the tidings loose, 10!
What's what-and who7" Georges
tone had dropped to the confidential
level.
Joanna's eyes narrowed immediate
ly. There were times when Joanna
was one of them.
Drop the who thing, Georgia.
she warned.
George stared at her. well, for
the love of -! 1.-The girl on the other
side of the counter on the outside
now, interrupted, sharply:
Yes, that's what I saidl You're
plugging in the wrong liner
She had intended to let Mr.. Good
Morning" feast his eyes, also, but
suddenly she lost the flavor of her
play. She swung smartly about and,
without as much as q nod leaving
an endless volley Of questions com
way into the street.
She had thought of going up to
let Mr.. Graydon see her, and to ask
of him some more wild questions,
but she forgot.
Why did everyone, even George,
who, out of some very definite I'M
derstandings between them should
know her pretty well-why did all of
them think things? What was wrong
with the world, the whole world?
Was there no one who really knew
about girl? Not even among
other girls?
Something very profound was stir
ring down below the surface of the
deep brown eyes of Joanna, but it
was still to abstract a confusion for
her to grapple with. She was sing
ing again when she reached home.
The world, for some unfathomable
reason, had picked her out to be
good to.
When Georgia arrived, breathless
from her rush from the store, Jo-
anna was in the midst of her fever
ish unpacking of boxes. She had