Evening star., 1927-11-20


II fiectively, this is crue
T world" Raoul, who wa:
sitting on Trowbridge'
shoulder. said, PROV!
and gently nibbled his ear.
Hey. catr said Trowbrjdge. wv ha'
N Won think this is-a free lunch
He collared the morSel of gray 1ur
Paoul purred cheerfully, jingled the
finv silver bell attached to his rec
ribbon and gnawed Trowbridge'
thumb r
"Cat." said Trpwbridge, Il envy
YOU, No memories, no worries, no re
crets. And you've got the best name
for n cat that ever was invented ~
sounds like a cat, Monsieur Raoui ut
Ronronne. 81.
"Pr-r-ow?" inquired Raoul. and OIL
one of his masters studs.
clock struck 10. TlowbridSf
sighed. reached for the bell, arrested
the movement in midair and laughed
"Tbus demonstrating, cat. he Sald
"the we'll known force of habit. Fol
our correct English valet hath hltted
hence. And, what's more, he got MS
wages; yea, even unto the last shekeI
thereof-the mercenary bllShter! sc
now we're on the rocks, cat, ana we We
got to rough it a bit.
He dropped the kitten and went out
TO the vestibule, Raoul tinklins behind
him. Here we are!' said Trowbridge
"Old English topper-Old English
rcoatings-eXclusive evening scarl
--natty walking stick. Au revolr
catlet-lucky beast
As the door closed Raoul said
"Pr-row" Indignantly, and then said
It conciliatingly, and then tried it pa
Ill F,1fi1
he trotted back to the salon and slept
In the meantime, Trowbridge was
strollnc toward the Municipal Casino
of Cannes. in the Department of Apes
Maritimes, France.
He was waylaid by a besgar, who
Whined for a sou. TroWbridge gave
him 10 francs. A few steps later
however, he wondered why he had
done it. Had it been merely to de
lude himself that he could still dis
pense charity For in his pigskin bill
fold there remained just 500 more of
those francs, and they constituted his
entire remaining capital. At current
exchange, $50.
Outwardly, he was a fashionable
gentleman lettering to a rendezvous,
and the taxi drivers who hailed him
didn't know that his soul was crawl
about it than the gray kitten did.
Arrived at the sea promenade. he
fingered to take the mellow air. A
score of yachts were rocking in the
little harbor, and he smiled at them
reminiscently. He stared at the Ca
sino, gay with lights. and his smile,
although still reminiscent, took on a
nuance of bitterness. Then he
shrugged his shoulders and crossed
the street to the Casino and made his
way to the Sale des Amba bassadeurs,
where there is dancing.
He was standing just within the en-
trance and casting about for his
hostess and her party, when the
maitre d'hotel came up and Saluted
him with Difference. "Ah. good eve
ming, Monsieur Trowbridge. l have
a message for you. Lady Mcdonald
has telephoned that she will be de-
layed until II or a trihe later and
hopes that you will wait for her.
Would you like a table, Monsieur
to the baccarat instead"
''No," said Trowbridge. 81 don't
think I'll play baccarat, Pierre. I'll
wait here"
He took table and ordered a drink.
As for the relentless rhythm of the
orchestra, he never heard it. His
thoughts made an impenetrable buff
fer between himself and any such
triviality as jazz.
He could hardly believe that he was
remembering his own career. 1t was
too unreal, too fantastic. 1t was more
as though he had been watching some
madcap actor, who had tried to i'm
personate him, and had done it very
badly, not to say stupidity. By rights,