Evening star., 1934-02-07
NSTALLMENT III.

broke in the stock market Crash.
INSTALLMENT III.
KR. CARLISLE was still in the
M cocktail bar Mr. Slattery
4 L oily" he said, we're sit
ting pretty. The things in
the bag!"
Mr. Carlisle sat up alertly. His
friend, he knew. was no idle talker
Seldom, too, was he as emotional as
this. II Mr.. Slattery was excited, it
meant something.
What thing? What we were talk
Ing about?"
Sure. That chatty-o. I've just
I,ln into the guy that lives there
Mr. Carlisle's animation increased
rHow did you do that?"
We happened to meet" said Mr..
elattery with touch of embarrass-
ment And We got chummy and had
. drink. And he says Mrs Gedge
don't keep her ice at no bank. She's
got it right there with her In a
safe, she keeps it. Well, say! Show
me the pete I can't open with my eye
teeth and a pin, and I'll eat it,"
"But-"
IT know. The inside stand. I'll
tell you. This Gedge dame is sailing
for England this afternoon"
He paused to allow the momentous
Information to sink in. A glance at
his companions face told him that he
had not overestimated the agility of
the others mind. Mr.. Carlisle took
his meaning instantly.
II go on the boat and get ac-
euainted?"
That's right. You'd best tell her
you're one of these French titled guys
with lots of pull with the fellows that
run the French government. On ac-
count she wants her old man to be
Ambassador to France, and she'll think
you can help"
"1'll string the beads till she thinks
Z own the French government"
We're on big thing, Oily. This
Gedge tells me that ice Of hers runs
as high as sixty grand"
Mr.. Carlisle licked his lips. IF I'm
not inside that chateau in f1ve days,
be said, I'm not the worker I used
TO be-"
The glorious weather which was
making st. Rocque's Summer season
such . success was equally glorious
across the English Channel Sunshine
bad flooded the grounds of the
Chateau Blissac, and sunshine shortly
after 4 o'clock on the following after
noon was flooding the streets of Lon
don. It turned the pavements to gold
It illuminated with its merry beanns
the faces of pedestrians, dray horses
and policemen.
Only Waterloo Station, that austere
cavern, would have none of it. Wrapped
IN its customary decent gloom, it con-
tinued to resemble a cathedral whose
acolytes f1ll in their time with BIT
Of steam fitting on the side. And
today the somber note was intensified
by the presence Of large crowds OF
moist adults, accompanied for the
most part by children with spades and
buckets. For 1t was the beginning Of
what the papers call the Holiday
Rush. London and its young, like
Xenophon's Ten Thousand, were max.
ing for the sea.
Outside the gates behind which the
management keeps the 4:2l express to
Yeovil and points west, there stood
Q young man whose appearance did
something to raise the lowered tone
OF the place. II not strictly hand
some, he looked extraordinary f1t and
healthy, and there was in his
demeanor cheerful contentment
which marked him of from the droves
of worried fathers who we're so OBJ
viously wishing that they had remain
ed bachelors. All this was new and
entertaining to him. He had been In
England only a few months, and he
enjoyed every manifestation of Eng
ush life. As he now detached two
children. Ralph and Flossie, from his
legs and handed them back to their
parents. there was nothing of i'm
patience In his manner, only kindly
eolcitude. And If he would have pre-
ferred that another child, named
Rupert, had selected somebody else's
trousers as a strop for his all-day
quicker, he gave no outward evidence
bf the fact.
As to his identity. if you read your
society gossip, you will recall that the
engagement was recently announced
between Lady Beatrice Bracken (who
Is, of course, the daughter of the Earl
Of Stableford) and Patrick B. Franklyn
(who is, Of course, the we'll known
young American millionaire and
eportNnan). This was Packy.
Beatrice was leaving London today