The Washington times., 1928-12-31

first thing to do was to get back
to her native land.
Now, back In New York, sitting
In this dingy taxi, it seemed to
her that she had managed her
escape very cleverly. She felt no
slightest doubt as to her ability to
take care Of herself. She had gone
to cheap Paris department store,
had bought the cheapest coat and
. hat she could find, and straw
suitcase, to which, in the wash
room, she had transferred the
contents of her exquisite leather
bag, which, along with the Won
net coat she had desertedLnot
without pang. Her lovely hat,
of soft felt, she had jammed into
the straw suitcase. Presently she
was en- route to Cherbourg, hav-
ing first sent pneumatique
my things to London when you
come, don't worry about me. I'll
send you word care Lady Ard
sley." It was a shame to deceive
poor Cousin Agatha, but 1t had TO
be done.
The steerage had been uncom.
Portable. but not too terrible. She
had had only two regrets; on the
last day when the captain came
through the steerage with several
first.class passengers. she had
noted one unusual looking young
man, with keen gray eyes. And
she had thought, If had tTav-
eled first-class, might have met
him.. He was tall. and Eronzed
by the sun, with a grave face,
and sudden warm smile.
He has passed rather close to
her, and their eyes had met
Just for a fraction of a second.
Yet that fraction of second and
another, when he had turned at
the door, and had looked at her
again, had been all she had been
able to think about the rest of
the day,-that was yesterday.
When she should have been max
Ing plans as to what to do when
she reached New York, she had
spent all her time thinking how
nice it would be to see him again.
The other moment of regret had
been when the rumor went round
among the steerage passengers
that Endicott. the aviator, was
aboard. She hadn't ever heard Of
him. and there were loads of
aviators these days. still 1t would
have been nice to meet one.
Apparently the way to begin to
live" was not to travel steerage,
The next time she'd do better.
And she might just as well
forget those gray eyes. for there
wasn't a chance In a million
she'd ever see them again.
1t occurred to her as they were
driving along Fifth Avenue and
she was enjoying the shop win
dows and the busy crowds, that
they must have passed a tele-
graph office. She asked the
driver
Yeah. we passed couple. but
I can't park down here, there's
one further up, off Fifth Avenue"
So Genevieve gave herself up to
the pleasure Of looking in the
windows. Everything looked
beautiful. Clothes might be bet
ter made in France, but they
were certainly not SO well dis.
played. She must soon buy her.
self a whole new outfit. She
thought with passing regret of
the luscious" new clothes she
had left behind in Paris. 1t
would be fun, though, to go by
herself, to do her own choosing,
without Cousin Agatha.
The taxi had now turned off
the avenue. had got in and out of
several traffic jams. had turned
a number of corners. Genevieve
was thinking of the letter she
would write to Cousin Agatha
about this quaint taxi-really a
very dingy one. even the license
number was rubbed and blurred.
And the leather seat was cracked
and worn. And the picture of
the driver. really, didn't look any
more like him than her own pass
port picture looked like her.
Now the cab stopped. Here's
your telegraph office"
She ran in and quickly filled
out blank. '"Safe and sound in
New York. Hope you didn't
worry about me. Address me at
our bank. here. BY the way,
what is 1t. I've forgotten. Loads
of love. Genevieve."
As she wrote, she noticed that
| the taxi driver had left his motor
| running, and had got out of the
| car and stood in the door of the
telegraph office. Poor thing"
thought Genevieve, ','he's afraid
I'm going to send myself away
by cable, and not pay him. I
must remember to give him
! good tip" To the telegraph
s 4