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

think. forgetting all about the flow
ers on the table in the drawing
room only"
PSTAIRS Joanna was trying,
Ill also, to think. She sat down
on the bed and put her chin
in her hand, her elbow propped on
a crossed knee. But the room i'm
prisoned her too tightly. The walls,
dotted here and there with photo
graphs of boys, movie star or two,
and framed Autograph of Niagara
Falls, pressed in on her and suffocat-
ed her. She needed more space.
With all that money in her bag, and
with more-all the money in the
world, more than she ever possibly
could get rid Of, she must get out
again, out onto the street, where
the crowds were, into the stores, and
buy, buy, buy!
She'd never been able to buy,
Joanna hadn't. Always she'd had
to shop and haggle. The fellow who
ran the store in the office district,
where she bought filmy, sheer things
of tinted crepe de chimes, he'd col
lapse when she should walk in, call
for his fanciest sets with real hand
worked lace on them, the one he
hung in his show cases for the same
reason Chen hung the mink in his
window-when she should walk in,
% II fo,, tbaSa oypapciHra Sotc opd no v,
the price without haggling him down
dollar or two. She'd go around
there, now! Tomorrow, after she'd
talked with John tonight, she could
take an hour or two and think.
Think what to do, and how"
She slipped out without seeing
Mrs. Adams. At the corner she
hailed taxi and went, first, to the
shop where the dainty things IN
crepe were. But she was disap-
pointed. The shop keeper didn't col
lapse. He was calm. AS if such a
lavish purchasing were not at all
unusual to one who dealt in such
dainties. Joanna lost interest in his
wares, and in him. Suddenly this
little shop, with the gaudy, but en-
ticing window displayed and the
racks filled with billowy, soft things,
in every conceivable tint and shade,
became unpretty, uninviting. she
completed her purchases, though,
and went out to her waiting cab.
She remembered her first picnic.
Strange how her thoughts were slip
ping backward during these hours!
That picnic! Because she had been
particularly good for a week, her
mother had permitted her to go with
the other girls, older girls, with
out a guardian to restrain her. And
she was in such a stew when the
baskets were spread out and the
girls and boys broke up into par
ties and hunted out swings and wad-
ing places around the little lake.
There was so much for her to do,
so much sheer joy to garner In. that
she ran about in circles unable to
She was like that today, but 1t was
funny that she should remember.
And, queer, too, that today she had
something Of that same old, silly
feeling that had come to her during
the picnic afternoon
She had stopped for q minute thai
afternoon between racing from one
excitement to another to catch her
breath and to say to herself, with
childish earnestness, that she was
glad she'd been-good. Today when
she came out of the lingerie shop
she was glad, in a way, that she
had been-well, perhaps there were
no medals hanging on her soul, but
she was safe in wishing her mother
and father were where she could go
to them today. They'd give lots Of
room to give her an argument, of
course; about skirts up to the knees,
and stockings so thin that her legs
showed through, and about some
other things, but she could look
them straight in the eyes just the
same. 1t would be so splendid, If
they, or one of them, could be here
now!
This climax to her reflections, and
her memories of the picnic occasion
revived the glow in the slim, eager
body. There wasn't anybody to share