The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1931-07-29

Miss" he said, touching his cap to
Robard. whom he knew.
i've asked Miss Barrett to let
me take her in" Robard said gent
ally. Il happen to be driving to
town"
I'm afraid I must" Lane odd
the chauffeur. I'm late as it is.
VIII you follow us and pick me up
at the dressmakelS?"
IVAN helped her into his car. She
' suddenly was conscious Of her
looks, of her sickness and slim
ness in the smoke colored frock and
coat.
C%ajolingly he said as they wove
their way in and out of the increas-
ing traffic, Won't you lunch with
me? I haven't had a chance to talk
to you for ages"
The color flooded her face. I'm
afraid not. I have a sort of en-
gagement. I was going to tele-
phone to mother"
He stilled her objections.
Nonsense. You're lunching with
me-"
They were driving through a
town now. Street cars, policemen,
pedestrians, all became a blur TO
Lame. She was only aware that
for a short time she and Van Ro-
hard were together.
I'll drop you at Fifty-Seventh
street and come back in an hour"
he announced.
Lane did not answer. The red
light flashed on and Van brought
the engine to a standstill. He had
a moment in which to turn to her,
to cover her hand with his free one.
you and I have so much to say to
each other, sweet" he told her.
And well do you know It'll"
The spell was on her once more.
She could not say no to this man.
TINE entrance to Christine, Ltd,
L is a symphony in mauve. Cur
tains shading from plum to lilac
shut out the din Of F-ifty-seventh
street. The carpet is deep purple,
so soft and thick that ones feet
sink into its pile.
The ceiling is pale lavender,
studded with silver stars. There is
about the place a faint, elusive
scent of sprnig flowers. No hint is
given of the crude, noisy workroom
upstairs where French women in
sleazy black frocks dart frantically
to and fro with lengths of fabric
over their arms, where errand girls
work in slovenly fashion for So a
week.
No, Christine'S main salon is all
suavity and richness. Lame felt it
that late November day when she
arrived to have her wedding dress
fitted.
A year ago she would have been
Clmld in this place. Now she felt
quite at home. AS the fiancee of
CIlve Cleespaugh of Willow Stream
ana Park avenue, she was accepted.
fawned over.
"A woman in a perfectly fitting
black dress came toward her and
murmured, "Ah, Miss Barrett. TIL
TAKE you to Miss Lilly"
Lane followed her into a lilac.
oraped cubicle. With infinite care
she was helped off with her smart
smoke colored coat. Miss Lilly. a
TALL, red-haired CIR, with a match
less Irish complexion, appeared.
Just n minute, Miss Barrett
Ma'mselle Denise is putting in the
last stitch"
Lame scarcely heard what thew
SAID as she slipped out of her x
pensive frock and stood there in
the wisps of delicate French lin
ger1e Mrs. Cleespaugh had insisted
on buying for her.
AS in a dream she watched the
voluble French woman enter carry
ing the pile of creamy velvet over
ler arm. She stood on a small
da1s and permitted them to drape
her with the gown. Her mind was
a whirligig of confused thoughts.
Why had she agreed to lunch with
Van Robard? She felt guilty about
1t, about the meeting itself which
certainly she had not planned.
The very fact that Give was away
seemed to make their rendezvous
more significant.
Miss Barrett is lovely!" muttered
Mademoiselle, falling back a few
steps and clasping her hands.
Il = u
I lane glanced dreamily at her.
IL self in the long mirror. Star.
tied, she beheld her own image. She
stared at herself as if, indeed, i
were a stranger she beheld.
The dress was exquisite. There
was no doubt about that. It fol
lowed the style of a more romanti,
period. The fitted bodice, long
tight sleeves, the graceful flow o