The Waterbury Democrat., 1931-11-04

His voice, kept low in imita- ton of the other mans, was sur prisingly soft-quite at variance with his appearance, and almost like a woman's.
 "She was considered the most beautiful girl in New York some years ago." the artist continued. He pointed behind him to the glazed sketch surmounted by the crape-decorated wreath. "Chanlery did this head of her. She was like young Diana then.'
 Gideon had paid his homage to the dead masters work as he came in.
 Good Lord!" he said. You don't mean that's the same wo- man? What happened to herr"
 Love" replied Stornaway. "she fell in love with a boy who used
 practically to live here-Alan Steyne, an artist. At least. he was trying to be an artist, and starving meanwhile. It was one of those terrific passions. They were inseparable--couldn't breathe apart. She was working at Will loughby's art school. She was about IS at the time, and he was a few years older. She's the daughter of an Englishman. I've forgotten his name-he died in Switzerland, climbing-I can't re- member which mountain. Her mother was dead long before"
 Gideon turned, and his small eyes made quick survey of the young woman's fair face.
 T thought she didn't quite fit in here," he said. "Go on, storm away. This is most interesting"
 "One day Alan Steyne disap- peared-just like that, without q word-just deserted her. She wasn't the kind that could stand 1t. It wasn't an ordinary love af- fair-not on her part, at any rate. She didn't exist apart from him, and everyone thought he was equally fond of her. I used to come here quite often in those days, and l saw a good deal of them"
 What became of the fellow?" Gideon asked.
 Nobody knows--never heard of since. He was clever, but im- patient-didn't care about going through the mill. He's never done anything in the art world, or one would have heard of him. The girl went to pieces-nearly died, you know; and when she struggled back again she was like she is now"
 Do you mean she's mad? 2" asked the rich man with interest.
 Not exactly. Silly. I. should say-not quite all there--childish.
 And how does she liver"
 Everybody looks after her, as far as I can make out. She's the pet of this place. At first she must have had little money. She didn't seem to have any relations. Little by litle she became the adopted child of the chaps who come here. She never painted since Alan Steyne left her. I don't quite know how it's man. aged but. nobody would let her want.
 Lately she's been living with another girl--a girl they call Judy. Judy Is more or less of a new comer-since my time; but I've seen her when I've been here. don't come often. Someone told me that she was looking after Chummy. l think she's model herself-a queer, savage-looking sort of a girl"
 How long ago did this hap pen?" Gideon asked.
 Let me see-about seven years ago, l suppose. Yes; it's five years since I used to come here regu- larly, and then Chummy was quite an institution"
 A slip of a girl pushed open the door and came into the Cafe Turc. She shook herself like dog. and the raindrops fell from her in showers.
 Everybody in the front room knew her and greeted her.
 "Hullo, Judy! Cheerio. Judy! Welcome to the ark, Judy"
 The girl answered them all with words in a voice that was husky. partly by nature, and part ly owing to a bad cold. She ad- vanced with a series of shakes, and finally divested herself of the shabby macintosh she was wear ing. Underneath. she had a very short skirt of dark tartan, and a bright green jersey with threads of gold showing here and there. On her head was a battered. white felt hat. very much pulled over her eyes.
 Judith Grants face was gaudy with its cheap paint and powder and lampblack that sullied and disguised the wonder of it's youth; but 1t was charming. for all that, and flower-like. Once man looked at 1t, he often had to look again and again.
 She had a mop of short, red gold hair and big eyes the color of dark purple pansies. and mouth that was always laughing. She was very small. Artists used her as a model for the line of her neck and shoulders. and for her hands and feet, which were pretty nearly perfect.
 Sometimes. when her profession failed her. she got into chorus. She was q born dancer. but she never stayed long, and had never achieved promotion on the stage. For one thing. she had no voice. and she was so small that she was lost in the crowd.
 Her entrance Into the inner room was greeted with another chorus. Everybody knew her.
 "Huilo boysl" she cried, as she Jumped the three steps in . bound. She looked round and saw the fair girl alone at her table. "Ah, there's my familyw she sx- claimed, walking over to Chummy. and flinging down her nnaekintosh on . chair and her hat on the top Of it.
 She sat down beside her friend. and Dan brought her q stenmlnR tumbleP Of punch. Two or three Of the mon ct the bIg table came over and talked Co She two slri9.