The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1928-12-07
1[shtOreth
when the thing was done "T G

when the thing was done, IT can
have good time with a clear con-
science"
He had, when he first saw Ash
toreth, been having a good time for
something like twenty-five years
Ever since the death of his father,
an estimable old fogey devoted to
righteousness and plain living.
With the exception of two vener-
able aunts, Hollis Hart was quite
alcne in the world. The aunts were
maiden ladies, easily upset.
They ate like sparrows, and wore
rusty black. Both of them worried
Unfortunately about bad end" for
each month.
At the moment Mr.. Hart was con-
sidering the wisdom of a note to
Aunt Meg. A reporter, it seemed,
had asked her for a statement re-
garding the rumored engagement of
her nephew to Lady Something-or-
other. Aunt Meg, tremendously
concerned, had written, TREMENDOUSLY,
for details.
Mr.. Hart cleared his throat
Dictated his aunt's address, and
| stared savagely at her note in his
hand. A gasping little note, like a
well-bred lady considerably out of
breath.
For a quarter of a century Aunt
Meg had used white linen paper
bordered in black. Her handwriting
was cramped and quivering. And she
used a fine pen that inevitably
spattered when she dotted her is;
The letter, somehow, looked like
Aunt Meg. Or Aunt Sarah, for that
matter. They were eXasperatingly
alike, Hollis Harris aunts. Decent,
decorous spinsters.
Once, at a garden party, they had
met a obviously lovely lady with
their nephew. A charming, reckless
girl whom many men had loved.
Hollis Hart presented her to his
aunts, and Immediately she pro-
ceeded to envelop them with her
gracious charm. They drew together
shyly, their narrow shoulders touch
ing, as they stood facing the radiant
creature. They were uncomfortably
i'll at ease.
And so at less for words, as to
seem even more half-contained
than usual. Frigid, stilted things in
horrid black. With the life font dry
in their withered bodies. And their
souls parched.
He wondered-Vaguely, disturbed
at the thought they were
jealous of the warm, soft girl who
knew so much of love. AS he
watched them, he felt sure Of it.
And, from that day, Hollis Hart
believed that all women were ar
rayed against one another. The I'M
loved women hating the beloved
women. And the beloved women
despiring all the rest.
A SHTORETH put her fingers to
IN the violets that bloomed in
a yellow bowl on his desk. From
her body there emanated the lovely
odor of a delicious woman. Soft as
the breath of a night wind whisper
ing. And Hollis Hart, in clairVoy-
ant moment, knew that in the pitt
less conflict of women, Aunt Meg
and Aunt Sarah would be arrayed
against the girl who stood before
him. Because this girl was soft
and beautiful. 1t seemed, then, in
delicate to ask her to transcribe
such a letter as he had proposed
debating to Aunt Meg.
She stood there waiting for him
to begin. Very quietly, without self
consciousness. Her fingers now were
on her note book. And the green
stone on her forefnger cleaned, like
a baleful scarab, across the desk al
Hollis Hart.
"Your ring!" he exclaimed in
voluntarily. "What a gorgeous
thingl May I see it?"
Unsmiling, she extended her hand
Her fingers, long and white, made
him think of dropping petals.
"I am intensely interested" he ex-
planned, Gin archaeology, and partic-
ularly in the amuletS of the Egyp-
tians."
"Yes?"
Ashtoreth was politely non
committal.
ut is not an antique setting?" he
hazarded.
NO." she told him, "But rather q