Nogales international., 1932-09-28
NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY.

these rodrnen to use their heads" The
experienced engineer was speaking
with authority. ''We engineers got to
hold 'em down." he added with con-
viction. John was leaving. "See you
later" Mailing called, and John lett
the exciting scene. "We engineers"
He felt a foot taller. and Monday
morning seemed year away. John
was very young.
He went to his new room, tlnpacked
the photograph of Josephine, and
looked at her image long and thought
fully. He called tip Van Horn and
had also talked with Josephine for
moment over the telephone. She
lcered glad to hear from him. Her
laugh was familiar. John remembered
nothing but the laugh. Her very re-
ticence conveyed things that seemed
bound to bring them close together
again. The warmth of young summer
was in the air; lovers were walking in
the park across the way.
Van Horn remained in the city. He
just refused to leave, and Josephine,
in the dark cool house in the middle
Fifties, agreed with those millions who
have said, New York is splendid
summer resort"
AS many people were always in or
about town, and as Josephine had
several insistent problems confronting
her, the city, in the summer, took on
the proportions of an adventure.
Josephine was frankly in the business
of living successfully. She had no in
tention of being anying but a success,
and not merely a social success, but
to achieve freedom, and expression,
and, well, lots of other things besides.
In fact she was not above the plane
OF experiment. The artless dropping
OF a fold of her crepe kimono, the
closeness of her firm breasts, for all
instant pink reflected light of table
lamp, beneath Johns eyes, as she had
bent over him, placing tray of toast
and tea upon his bed, on the morning
of his convalescent luxury, happened
as she planned. She recalled his quick
ly mounting color. her bustling of the
pillow under his head, bending close
above him, breathing the freshness OF
her morning bath. 1t was all so in
innate, and innocent.
And John had never asked anything.
1t puzzled her. Boys proposed to her,
almost as matter of course. Gerrit
Rantoul had proposed, and was wait
ing her reply.
Josephine still felt Rantou1 stand
ing over her, tall and firm and charm
ing, his white hair mark of distinc-
ton rather than of age. He once told
her. half laughingly, II guess l was
born that way"
Rantoul was wealthy. belonged to
good clubs, had offices in the financial
district, and had leisure and just
enough contact with great affairs to-
make him an cntrancing companion.
He was constantly meeting important
men, A word or two, mere hint,
gave Josephine the feeling of mingling
in a Consequential world. 1t was so
different from Gilbert Van Horns
world, a place utterly divorced from
business and occupied with stupid
sports, Or gossip, or incoming.
Women were attracted by Rantoul,
women always had been attracted to
him. Charming women, Josephine
knew, would take him in an instant,
and he loved her. She was certain OF
of that, loved her intensely, with pas
sion held in mastery reserve. He was
a compelling figure. She often thought
of him as a Richard Harding Davis
hero, an engineer of great renown, de-
corated by foreign potentates.
Josephine laughingly told this to Ran
toul. When they dined that night at
the West -Hambletons', Rantoul wore a
-allow and red sash across his breast