The Washington times., 1935-11-26

bed. Now, at five in the after
noon, she was just up, looking hol-
low-eyed and wretched.
She said: I'm glad you
dropped in, darling, but it's horrid
Of you to look so healthy. Being
married certainly promotes a
placid expression" She frowned
at him. you, do look placid.
Kipp, disgustingly So"
Kipp said he was and
grinned gently. He said: But
you don't, darling; you look terri
BILE. Why do you do it?" Meaning
why did she burn up her energy
so, refuse to take better care Of
herself?
She shrugged, a slight lifting Of
her slim shoulders. II don't
konw why does one do any
thing? Why do you torture your
self trying to write q really good
novel when you could make more
money working for your father?"
But that" protested Kipp, get
ting UP to prowl about the room,
"iS constructive E"
"And you think what I'm doing
isn't?"
"You know very well it isn't, it's
bound to affect your work and
your looks ="
You're trying to tell me, Of
course, that I look like the devil
today. well, I do. But what OF
it?"
Nothing" Kipp admitted re-
luctantly, "if you don't care"
But of course care!" she pro-
tested little irritably. mo one
cares more how they look at times
than I do. or less at others"
She smiled at him slowly from
where she was lying just any way
among the cushions on the couch.
He thought: "She has the most
supple body I've ever seen. and
she knows how to relax more com.
pletely and beautifully than any
woman I have ever known" He
noticed then that she was wearing
pair of thin Chinese silk
pajamas that he had seen a great
many times before. he found
himself looking for a small hole
in the right sleeve that had been
burned by a cigarette held too
close to it, too long. he found it
and smiled briefly.
Everything about the room was
equally familiar. "a light film of
dust on the piano. .Francine'S
maids were invariably more adept
with lotions and massage than
with dust cloths and furniture
polish. books stacked carelessly
on window ledges and on the floor,
pair Of crumpled evening gloves
and a wilted corSage of gardenias
flung careleSsly among the papers
and letters and endless clutter Of
her desk. it was q casual room,
intensely lived in yet utterly
neglected. backgrounds were i'm
portant to Francine only on for.
NAL occasions. then there was no
one more skillful at marShaling
candlelight, the faint fragrance of
Soft-petaled flowers and all the
trappings Of feminine allure. he
had seen her countless times,
curled on that same couch, against
a great satin cushion, as deliber-
ately seductive as she was being
utterly unselfconScious today.
sprawled there flatly, looking
quite drained and worn out and
not caring. not caring at all.
Yet he knew from much expert.
ence that by eight that night she
would be glamorouS and beautiful
again. It was the thing about her
that had always fascinated him
most. the way she turned her
allure on and off as capriciously
as some other woman would
change her mind.
She said now: "Stop prowling
around and come and sit down.
Here" She indicated the space
on the couch left by the curve of
her body.
Kipp came and stood looking
down at her. He didn't sit down.
He said: mo thanks, darling. If
you don't mind I'll sit here. Safer"
He dropped into a wing chair and
lit cigarette.
But that" said Francine slowly,
"is all over.'
Ito Be COntinued)