The Washington times., 1935-01-26

| LLlB IlOuSS IdukAAb AIlS CbdkA1lAp
handed on, never written. E"
She began to hum it softly to
the rhythm of the drums. Stuart
leaned against a pillar, looking
out at the moon path on the lake.
He did not notice when she slipped
away, for he had become dissolved
in the beauty of the night. He
was Jai Singh, again incarnate.
Jai Singh, considering the stars in
their courses, even as Love flowed
into the Court with the moon
light.
PantOmime
Presently ne became conscious
of her again. She was part Of
his dream, an Indian maiden Of
long ago, drifting out Of the
shadows into the radiance Of the
Indian night. Like a moonbeam
she drifted, singing softly, beat.
ing her hands lightly together
so that the bracelets jingled.
The drums beat on in faint,
compelling rhythm and her
languid steps were fitted to q
haunting melody which was like
O fragrant memory or hope Of
fulfillment. Slowly, dreamily, she
danced with the veil trailing from
head and shoulders-her sweet,
young body now lost in the
shadows, now half revealed by the
sWirling gosSamer, now clear as q
bit of white marble come to life
in the moonlight. Then, at last,
she was at his feet, veil tossed
aside, smiling up at him, her eyes
SuffuSed and tender.
Your Highness-" so humble,
SO soft her voice. MY love
may I be the Favorite-tonight?"
Her pantomine brought the an.
cient days upon them entirely.
Love, like rare perfumes, invaded
the Court of the Wind Palace.
Love and Beauty tore at his
heart. The lover and the artist
He lifted her, the exquisite,
soft slimness Of her, and held
her close, wordlesS, enchanted,
lost.
Hours later, when the elephants
bore them back down the steep
road in the moonlight, he remem-
bered to be thankful that the
Specter Of Kent Damerell had not
been present this time. Only the
happy ghosts of the seraglio, plac-
ing himself, Stuart Pennington.
even if only in play, for one
priceless hour in the center of
her universe.
When they came out again to
Bombay, Sharlene tossed their
tickets to Cairo into the air and
said: Let's go home, STUART"
His heart quickened. "Oh,
Sharlene, do you mean it?"
Home and a chance to, work
again! Could he recapture any
of his shining dreams and put
them into form? The artist felt
oddly incapable and regarded his
hands queStioningly, as Pad
ereWski must have looked at his
stiffened fingers after the period
away from his piano while he
was President of Poland. If he
had forgotten would there be
new conceptions? 1t had been SO
long now since beauty had moved
him to expression. He hoped
that he had been merely fallow,
gathering impressions, but he
was afraid sometimes, desperately
afraid, lest he had lost the
gleam forever.
II see you want to go home as
much as I do, Stuart" Sharlene
was studying him. I'm home.
sick for Mother. She writes that
Kent and his wife are still there"
He threw a quick glance at
her, which she met with shrug
and a reassuring grin. I'm not
going to run away any more.
I'm going home and face the
music. I'm quite Indifferent
about him, now, anyway"
After all, Stuart reasoned. she
could not run away from the
thing always. Perhaps, it would
be as we'll for her to 60 home
and put it to test. But ne
dreaded the outcome.
They were at breakfast on the
steamer, a day away from home,
when they read the same item
simultaneously from the ships
radio newspaper:
Among the notables leaving
Los Angeles today on the s. s.
Malolo are Mr.. and Mrs. Kent
Damerell-"
Their glances met with a
shock.
"Reprieve!" she said, and
Stuart was arrested by the N.
tensity Of relief in her voice.
That evening as they emerged
from cocktail party down the
deck. they stepped into a flood Of
blazing color. The world vas
afire, from the great flaming
clouds across the tremendous arc
Of the sky to the vast undulating
molten sea. The sun, which had
wrought the miracle, was just ciz-
Zling into the water on the Ear
horizon.
AS they watched, breathleSS, a
ship came out Of the East and
passed near enough so that they
could see people on the decks,
Near enough so that they could
read the name: "Malolo."
5harlene's hand clutched the
rail-. Kent was on that boat!
| Kent naCSino ca c1oceI Oorbops