The Waterbury Democrat., 1932-04-28

and SO was his wife, Sonya. Susan
liked the sound of that name. 1t
made her think Of a camellia-wh
face beneath a head of seal-black
hair.
Aunt Jessie looked as if she
thought Russians little better than
the "Polocks"s he disliked so much
but after a moment or two of con-
sideration she grudgingly consent
ed. IF you'll have Susan home
by half past TO-" she stipulated.
The house in which the Strinskys
lived was an old brownstone
on the north side not far from Lin
coin Park. Ben, who had been in
New York, told Susan the place was
just like Greenwich Village, and
Susan believed him. She was a
little awed at her good fortune in
being introduced to such a charmed
circle.
The main room Of the Strinsky
fiat was a shock to her at first. The
walls were painted with splashes of
red and orange. There was a black
corduroy couch in one corner and
a samover on q kitchen table that
had been painted blue. About the
room on soiled cushions and on a
few crude chairs were scattered
the guests. Sonya Strinsky, who
was pale. oily-haired girl wearing
lavender smock, admitted them.
She had long, tired, hazel eyes and
her hand was limp. She did not in
the least resemble Susan's notion of
Russian princess. The hall smell
Of cabbage and there was a drift OF
smoke in the room through which
Susan could just perceive the white
blurs of faces. A gable OF voices
rose. The place seemed intoler-
ably hot. Sonya said to Ben,
You're just in time. They want
to dance and you're to play for
them"
The young man protested but was
dragged, to the battered piano in
the corner and Susan left to fend
for herself.
1t was rather an uncomfortable
moment. She dropped into a chair
someone had vacated and tried to
appear interested as Ben pounded
out a jazz tune and two or three
weary looking couples swayed to
and fro. Sonya excused herself.
She said she must go out and help
Arnold, who was preparing drinks.
Susan's head began to ache and
she wished she had not come. She
began to suspect that perhaps she
was not really seeing life, after all.
A fat man, informally attired in
polo shirt and white Stacks. ap-
preached and asked her to dance.
She did not even know his name.
Susan lied, surprised at her own
resourcefulness. IT hurt my ankle
playing tennis"
The fat man sat down cross
legged on the floor beside her and
began to talk. Did she like Tilden's
style of play? What did she think
Of Borotra? And Helen Wills? The
dancing abruptly stopped and the
dancers drifted to their seats, al
lowing Ben to leave the piano. Talk
flew. Susan was bewildered by the
words and the new names. Cezanne
technique is rotten-Louis Is liv-
ing on the Left Bank now-Debussy
cant stand the modernists.
Sonya brought in a tin tray with
drinks. Susan frowned over hers
and left it untasted. She heard
Ben's low voice. "You don't have
to drink if you don't want to-"
She turned to him gratefully. He
was looking anxious. No doubt
Aunt Jessie had impressed him with
her views. II wouldn't dare" she
breathed. She looked around her.
The girl who was called Denise, the
fiower-faced one with the strange,
red hair, was gesticulating with her
cigaret and squirting through the
little column of smoke.
1t struck Susan for the first time
that Denise was rather out of place
in this shabby company. Her frock
was exquisite, her shoes narrow and
delicate and fine. The bracelet on
her narrow wrist looked real and
sparkling in the dim light.
Ben glanced carelessly across the
room. "Oh, her!" he said casually.
"She's society girl from Win
netka or some place. Sonya picked
her up at a club. Guess she thinks
she's Summing"
Susan gave Denise an envious
glance. What strange tastes some
people had, the. girl reflected. This
stranger who might be slipping iced
tea on some veranda high above the
lake chose to spend a stirling sum-
mer evening in the broiling heart
Of the city in stuffy room.
The red-haired girl glanced
across at Susan as though their
thoughts for an instant met and
clashed. Denise's strangely compel
ling eyes, set like aquamarines un-
der penciled brows, met Susan's
with a look almost proudly dis
dainful.
Susan felt flash of prescience.
She shivered a little. Somehow
she knew that Denise would cross
her path again.
ITO Be COntinuei1l