New Britain herald., 1927-02-07

l to carry to work at night were
 worthy of French chef. Some- times Robbie sat Ut the kitchen table and watched her cutting bread into paper-thin slices, rolling ripe olives and deviled eggs into pieces of oiled paper. wrapping ap- pie turnovers into a clean napkin for him, filling a thermos bottle with fresh coffee.
 1 Hell be feeling the need of something hRt in the middle of the night" she Would say severely. ] She kept his thermos bottle and a nickel-plated lunch box on the cellarway shelf beside the bread box where Robbie kept her own coffee and condensed milk. She never put them anywhere else. Everything in her house was al. ways in its place.
 [ Sometimes Robbie would come upon her, rubbing liquid backing over her husbands shoes, or polish ing one of his shirts with her flat i iron until it shone like satin- damask
 It was plain to her that Mrs. Mangan loved to do such things for her worthless husband. And !, there came to her faint glimmer ! of what it means to a woman to i love a man and look after him and his wants.
 ''It must be wonderful to feel ! that way about man. I couldn't" she told herself that night as she i went upstairs to clear up the torn papers, old silk stockings, empty powder boxes, broken beads and rouge-stained cigarette ends that Monica had carelessly left behind r her.
 By ten o'clock the place was in beautiful order, and as Robbie 1 dropped off to sleep a feeling of peace settled over her such as she hadn't felt since Monica had first come to live at Mrs. Mangan's 1 She sighed deeply and shut her eyes. She had only to shut them at night. and Gus MacCloud stood before her-the length and breadth of him in his rough tan clothes - ] his blond hair that she always wanted to smooth with her hands his blue eyes. He was the last . thing she thought of at night and first thing in the morning.
 Late Tuesday afternoon Monica camc to the house to take her i home with her.
 You just must gotta. come and see mamma in her new surround ings, Bobolink!' she said airily when she descended upon the house, dressed within an inch of her life and smelling like per fume bazaar in Arabia 1 Robbie was glad to go. She might not exactly love Monica. but sh was beginning to miss her now that she was gone. | On the way over to Caghuenga Street Monica stopped for five gal Ions of gas-and discovered she | had left her pocletbook at home. Monica was always making little discoveries like that. Robbie paid for the gasoline.
 | Here's my little gray home in the vest" she told Robbie as they 1 drove up before large red brick and white stone building near Yucca street Isn't it swank 2" Can you imagine Monica Mont, extra girl once upon time, living in a dump like this?'
 She led Robbie through a lobby ] that was all Turkish rugs and yellow wall-lights to the second floor.
 Before the door of Suite No. 2O4 she paused and fished in her hand . bag for her key.
 1 "Oh. and here's my change purse, after all" she cried. bringing it out along with the key. She seemed much surprised to find It. but she did not offer to pay Robbie the dollar and quarter she had borrowed for the gasoline. | They went into the apartment. It was everything that Monica had i said it was, and more The rugs were soft and thick. the furniture was fatly overstuffed, and covered with bright-colored tapestry.
 A fire burned in the gas-grate, and Monica had added few touches" of her own in the way of red roses, bright red glass cigar cite boxes and ash-trays, sofa cushions covered with gay taffeta and gold lace.
 Beyond. in the brightly lighted l little dressing room the white ! enameled dressing table was cov- cred with bottles of perfume and hair oil, with all the jars and b"xes and brushes and electric curling irons that Monica used ito doll up with.''
 Over white chair hung Mon- ica's familiar dressing gown of lowered silk. Clouds of perfume actually seemed to rise from its shining folds.
 '.Nery dada little place, don't you think?" asked Monica, dancing around the room and switching on lights.
 For Monica everything nice was dada" and everything not so nice was "ga-ga" or "blah."
 Its perfectly lovely. It looks like a movie set of some million aires house." Robbie told her, set ting herself in corner of the deep soft couch. Apd to tell the truth, the place wal pleasant and comfortable ii sps& n its garish- ness. In spifa kact that pair of pinA 2 slippers stood before S9H hd that everything nsfdL31 | Monica wa3 co . he knew how to be tsaq ust the same. There Was on the