The Waterbury Democrat., 1931-04-01
raclne her in the half.opsnea win dow .he man.


 i prising amount of insight for the social position to which she aspired. It was her wifely duty thus to aid Phil (so she told him) by enter taining the right people. It was also a form of competition which held feverish attraction for Anne.
 Tonight marked triumph. Seated at Phil's right at the op- poslte end of the table was Mrs Charles Littleton Fox-THE Mrs Fox whose name was so we'll known in social columns and whose picture never appeared even in the most conservative of journals. Mrs Fox's presence at the Trowbridges' dinner was distinctly social triumph. Charles Fox sat beside Anne. He made no pretense of the fact that horses and race track gossip were the only things which interested him. If there was no one about to discuss the Whitney two-year-olc' $ showing in the south or to make predictions about the Preakness, Charlie Fox subsided into grumpy
 
 grumpy--a concession owing to the fact that his hostess was so young and pretty.
 Two of Phil Trowbridge's busi- ness associates were included in the group. One of these was the gray haired Montgomery with his young wife. There was a Miss Matthews and her brother, both middle-aged who had been friends of Anne's mother. They had Social Register rating-and little money. They had been extremely useful to Anne. Most of the others were recent l acquaintances of the Trowbridges' l Gypsy supposed they must have l prominence or wealth--probabl, both. All of them impressed the girl as being tiresome and unin. lteresting. Anne was the prettiest woman ir the room, Gypsy reflected Some oi course might prefer the blond Mrs Montgomery who wore four brace lets, mostly diamonds, and dia- mond pendant but Uttered con- stantly in a high, childish voice Gypsy had taken dislike to Mrs Montgomery.
 <. Now butler was bringing the soup. There had never been but Ter in the Trowbridge household before. Anne was clearly out-doinG herself!
 Horace Page was asking if Gypsy had seen the latest Guild play. It was on the tip of the girls tongue to reply truthfully that she had tried to get tickets but no balcony eIn1>Ia Tnetood che said she had not gotten around to | 1t.
 "They've hit the wrong tempo" Page told her. Altogether the wrong tempo!'
 Tempo? Gypsy had supposed they were talking about a play. "Of course the symbolism is dom- inant." the man continued, '"and Its impressive. Oriental thing. you know. Very colorful. But there's no excuse really for misplacing the tempo. One doesn't expect that of the Guild"
 Gypsy thought she must have misunderstood. "Its the new play Lynn Fontanne's in,, you mean isn't it?" she asked.
 Page nodded. bringing the bald spot into prominence.
 "Over-rated actress, he said briskly. There followed ten-min- ute monologue on what was wrong with Miss Fontanne's dramatic DOT trayals.
 Horace sPage advanced the in- formation that he was secretary of a Little Theater group. He deplored the commercial theater and the public's failure to appreciate true art.
 But we're reaching them!" Page declared with feeling. We're
 .eaching them!" :.
 Why. Gypsy asked herself had
 he ever given up the peace and
 uiet of her room? This was hun-
 !red times worse. She moved rest 'essly, tried again to fasten her attention on what Page was saying.
 Down at the end of the table she caught a glimpse of Mrs Fox. Her arisfocratic chin was elevated but her table manners, the girl thought, might have been improved. Poor phil. striving to entertain the -uest of honor, looked hard-pressed, i All around the table were women i wearing expensive gowns and law ! ish jewelry. The names of the men l resresented social position and wealth. Gypsy studied their faces and decided she had never seen so dismal a group.
 1 An evening of gaiety! She had .ome out because she wanted to forget, and every moment was mak- ,,,g her more miserable. How long
 aust this ordeal last?
 Now Page had progressed from
 he theaters to art. Something was i wrong with art as well as the the- { ater. When he paused the girl mur. mured inaudibly. Try as she would she could not keep Alan Crosby's | face from appearing before her.
 'T won't think about him!' Gypsy told herself firmly. T won't!
 Yet in spite of herself the vision returned. She saw Alan smiling Alan tossing his hair back with Ithat famiIiar shake of the head.
 Would thIs abominabie dinner never end < lt seemed hours before the cheese land walters came. And at last-- I Heaven be praised !--A Anne Yyow- bridge was rising from her chair. The guests struggled Into the llxs ,..+ ,...nr,t cloffn& WnH served by