The times-news. [volume] (Hendersonville, N.C.) 1927-current, 1934-08-28
e BEAcH CLuB GIRL NJ. &C.: 60. :"

that she existed.
you've got to do things for
YOURSELF" the girl muttered Bit
terly. mo one else cares"
The pavements fairly cracked
with heat as she walked down to
the station. Awnings were drop
ped against shop windows all
along tie main street. The asphalt
dubbed it'll tar which stuck to
the soles of her white shoes. Her
thin dark blue swiss frock, her
little dark blue hat with the field
flowers were immensely becoming
but today all this did not seem to
matter.
She passed Ethlyn Tree at the
bank corner and the younger girl,
whose vacuous smile and loud,
meaningless slauph she had al
ways rather disiiked, stopped a
moment to chat.
"Where you been keeping your
self?" Ethlyn wanted to know,
languidly. To do her credit, she
genuinely admired Boots and was
trying to be friendly. But Boots
misunderstood the intent and the
interest and thought 'Ethlyn was
merely prying.
"1've been around all summer"
7 she said with cool defensiveness,
nodding and passing on. Her
cheeks burned. That the dav
should come when she, Boots
Raeburn, might be patronized by
that stupid little Tree girl
Hatred of Sylvia rose again in
her like a tide. All of this was
Sylvia's fault. She had her to
blame for the whole miserable
summer. Oh, if she might pay
! her back in her own coin. But
she was powerless. Sylvia had all
the odds in her favor.
| The red brick station baked in
the heat and Boots found its
moldy interior gratefully cool.
The rows of dusty benches, the
magazine stand with its racks of
Scent candies and sheaves of
bright-covered periodicals was a
familiar sight. One or two hardy
matrons stood about. talking
brightly to each other. These she
avoided, plunging down the stair
way that led to the westbound
platform. When the train came
Looping in she swung herself
aboard without looking to the
right or left. She did not, she
told herself grimly, want to spend
the entire so minutes talking ami
matedly to some dull neighbor
She did not observe the young
man who came racing alon% the
platform at the last moment
flinging a battered cowhide bag
ahead of him. He strobe through
; several swaying cars, glancing in
, tently at each passenger as hi
went. In the second car the cir
. in dark blue was seated quite
: alone, staring moodily out of tn,
= window. The broad-shoulderet
: young mans eyes lighted on he
with satisfaction. He flung tn
bag into the overhead rack ant
sat down beside her.
Boots did not stir nor did sh,
show any violence of interest il
her seatmate, her gaze lost in tn,
, flying landscape. They ran pas
little colonial houses with yard
ending in wire fences borderin'
, the railroad right of way. Pas
the "flats" the train swung ant
rocked, and here you caught 4;
! glimpse of shabby houses will
sagging back porches. their door
yards a welter of tin cans, ole
, Fords and enternrising chickens
j A goat peered inquiringly thru
a jagged tear in the wire anC
two or three dirty and scantll
dressed children played in a sand
box baking under the sky.
Boots stirred, sighed, folded
her gloves nervously in her warm
lax fingers. For the first time
she was conscious of the Othe1
person in the seat beside her
; Some faint, subtle aroma, com
pounded of tobacco and oil
| tweeds, stirred a sense-memory
| Her pulse quickened. She turneC
, with wide, startled eyes under tn
dark brim of her summer hat.
, "Youw she stammered.
, The man beside her was Rus
: Lund.
Two hours later she was seate
opposite him in tearoom i
Q the upper fifties. A small squar
k table, painted green, rocked o
9 unsteady legs between them. Pa