Evening star., 1932-03-15

had ever occurred to Martin before,
although he was nearly 26. And it
vexed him, in spite of the new and
sweet sensation that pleased as well as
troubled him. Where he had seen those
eyes or whether they had any real ex-
1stence outside his own eyelids, he could
not tell. But, then, as he raised one of
his own fair eyebrows and wrinkled his
forehead in perplexity, voice suddenly
attached itself to the eyes. The bitter
kind tastes best" it said
Martin waved a rain-wet hand in the
air and laughed as he remembered His
mouth suddenly watered and this ex-
perience was not so new and surpris-
ing as the other. He had no difficulty
in thinking of bitter things that tasted
good: of bitter chocolate, very strong
coffee, coffee with plenty Of milk and
piece Of sugar-candy; Of smoked ba-
con. Yes, he thought very intensely of
bacon. and he fingered awhile over the
aroma of wood smoke mingled imagi-
nary odors of food, or perhaps they
were savory ordors real odors. waited
from all these hotels and pensions. For
the promenade had now reached the
little town, with its houses and people.
I'm devilish hungry Martin informed
himself, as he mentally put full stop
to an imaginary collection of roast pork
with cabbage and dumplings.
In front of the little weather bureau
people stood tapping hopefully at the
glass of the barometer The patch of
blue in the sky had grown larger. The
opposite shore of the lake became
clearer and drew nearer, with its curv-
ing, sedge-clad outlines and the droop
of its trees over little toylike villas.
The promenade opened out into a
square surrounded by whitewashed
houses On a tongue of land running
out into the lake stood several hotels.
From windows lighted up at midday
came the sound Of last seasons music,
and whirring electric fans spewed out
the heated atmosphere within the VII
lage street.
That's our square" the boy re-
marked. Martin had quite forgotten
him, but he was still at his heels, bound
apparently to unremitting service by
the gift of a fragment Of chocolate.
THE square and the hotels. the Big
Petermann and the Little Petermann
and the tennis courts"
The tennis courts were by the edge
of the lake. and presented sorry sight,
being more than half under water.
Martin shook his head
! What sort of weather do you call
J this, I'd like to know" he asked, with
reproachful glance up at the sky.
1T generally rains cats and dogs,
replied the boy from below.
| At this moment, and most inexplica-
; bly,, the girl came out of the Peter
mann, stood at the top Of the three red
sandstone steps. and looked critically
| at the clouds In the sky. It was the
same girl. the one to whom the bitter
kind tasted best; the girl with long legs
and shapely knees who scarcely quar-
| ter of an hour before had vanished
along the promenade in the opposite
direction, accompanied by an arrogant
| young man in a pull-over. Martin
| could not help standing still in aston
| ishment, and his small, well shaped
ears grew red with sudden rush OF
blood.
This time contracting his fair eye
brows. Martin took good look at her
/ and her appearance, though attractive,
was, all the same, slightly disappointing
| The knees we're not set so high above
the ground nor turned with so incom-
F; parable a neatness as he had supposed
Her figure, tall, well made and grace
! full as 1t was, had not the charm, the
repose and the sure and balanced poise
it had had before. The eyes were
brown. Yes, they were certainly brown
and they were liked now upon Martin
with wide-open look that was almost
surprise. But 1t was not the right look
not the right brown-the brown that
Martin carried about with him-not
that play of smoke-quartz and dark
gold in setting of delicate blue enamel
Martin sighed.
The girl turned and went down the
steps and across the square. There
a motorcar was waiting, and In it sat
a well-dressed elderly man who might
be her father. Martins grasp on the
cardboard box had slackened and
allowed it to slip downward, but now he
pulled himself together There's a girl
for once who's properly sprung from
the hips, he thought roughly and in O
strange confusion of mind The Ions
journey. the mountain air and hunger
of % hours had produced slight dig.
illness in his head. He whistled q
marching tune and forced himself II