The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1932-02-08

/ only peace and beauty and leisure.
She began, did Ellen, to weave
those swift dreams of girlhood,
those dreams that need so little
substance.
Although Steven Barclay did not
guess it. his own shadowy figure
moved through those fancies.
They drove almost quietly to
Dreamland, absorbed in their sepa7
rate thoughts. They stopped of
Broadway. Ellen carefully picked
I'D the box which held the precious
dress and stretched out her hand to
Barclay.
Il can't tell you" she said breath
lessly, how much appreciate
what you've done for me-"
A BOVE them, through the open
"A windows, came a clashing of
brasses and a singing of strings.
The orchestra at Dreamland was
tuning up.
I'm glad I could do it," Barclay
replied.
He meant to stop there. But he
heard himself saying what he had
not intended to say.
Il would like to do a great deal
more for you"
Ellen's heart throbbed queerly,
but her voice was steady as she
told him that he had done a great
deal too much already.
She was seif-conscious, a rare
thing for her, as she climbed the
stairs-self-consci6us, and, now that
she was away from Barclay and
what he stood for, a little dissat-
isfied with herself.
How foolish to imagine that the
fact Steven Barclay had lent her a
dress meant anything except that
he was a kind and generous man.
What did she know of him after
all? He was rich and she had idly
dreamed of becoming his young and
adored wife, dreamed of the beauty
that as Mrs. Steven Barclay She
could bring into the lives of Myra
and Molly and baby Mike.
Dreamed, too, Of herself in thin,
gay frocks, never chosen for utility,
moving in the pleasure spots of the
world with never thought of work
or core.
She stepped into Dreamland and
ran straight into Jacob Solomon.
His face broke into a wide grin.
"Hullo-you're back And with
the dress, too, see. Quick work,
kid"
Ellen's chin came up.
II might as well tell you," she
said coolly, chat I intend to work
here only temporarily. For three
weeks, at the most"
That's o. k. by me, kid. But
since you're here, I suppose you
won't mind obeying the rules like
the other girls. Or will your"
Il WON'T" Ellen replied, ignoring
his heavy-handed sarcasm.
Guess this in the only one !
didn't tell you about
II Il
TIE pointed to a sign on the
i 4 bright pink plaster wall. Ellen
read that the hostesses were per-
mitted no conversation while dane
ing except Eyes" Or mo" in answer
to questions. She turned her
amazed face to Solomon.
Does look funny" he conceded,
still grinning. But there's good
sound business back of it. The
hostesses can talk when they're sit
ting at the tables with their part
nerS.
"And when they're sitting, they
order things to eat, if the gents will
stand for it. They mostly will"
oh" said Ellen blankly.
"Our specialty's chop suey," he
continued imperturpably. Price 81
rs cents to me, IS cents to the
hostess. Thirty-five if the chop
suey isn't eaten, but that means you
can't mess in it with your fork. It
has to be good enough to serve
again."
Ellen glggled.
THE joints straight" he assured
her seriously. eve don't serve
liquor. We don't even admit men
that have been drinking-much."
She was little perturbed by his
cheerful outspokenness. but she
meekly allowed him to pilot her to
cramped dressing room and to
introduce her haphazardly to the
other girls, some fifteen in num-
Der.
He used no last names. The girls
were Alice and Dolly and Sunny
and Anne and Maize to him. FL
len assumed they were to be that
to her.
Solomon had not knocked, but
nobody appeared to surprised. A
few of the girls reached for kimo-
nos with mechanical Squeals of dis
may, but most of them serenely con-
tinued their toilets.