The Washington times., 1935-11-08

were not only W1IIlng, puC ANXIOUS
to do just that.
And then, there was Francine
:. or, rather, there had been until
four nights ago.
Francine was thirty-two. A
successful and very popular young
novelist. She did't want to marry
him. or any other man.
She had already been married
twice and found both experiences
diverting but unsatisfactory. What
she wanted from Kipp was some
thing quite as demanding as mar
riage but much less permanent.
He had known her slightly for
about two years, and very well
indeed for about two months. He
had enjoyed those two months
very much but he decided today,
driving rapidly downtown through
that clear, blue dusk, that perhaps
it was just as well that she had
sailed for England on boat four
nights ago. Otherwise, she would
undoubtedly get in the way of his
work. In her own way, she
was quite as disturbing as Cynthia
and much less easily disposed of :.
He would miss her tremendously
for a while, then he would forget
her completely. After q little he
would remember her again as
someone he had had a nice time
with one fall in New York. She
was six years older than he and
she had probably given him more
than he had given her. He was
grateful to her and he would al
ways remember her pleasantly.
But when she came to New York
in the spring he would probably
not see much of her. she would
have replaced him several times by
then. And that was all right.
That was as it should be. In the
meantime he was glad she was on
her way to England, glad that for
Few days anyhow Cynthia would
De unable to track him down, glad
that his father was safely out Of
a business which had become too
strenuous for him and on his way
to Nassau to lie in the sun, and
more than anything, glad that he,
himself, was free at last, to do
exactly as he pleased for almost
the first time in his young life.
He turned off Sixth Avenue into
Twelfth Street and parked his car
before a red brick, four-story house
with white window boxes. Judy
and Ted's flat was on the top floor
and there was no elevator. Kipp
took the stairs easily, two at a
time, and inserted his latchkey in
the door which still bore one of
Ted's business cards, with Judy's
jauntily above it.
The door swung open but Kipp
stood still.
She was a small girl in q gray,
woolen dress with red patent
leather belt. She had taken off
her gray fur coat and her bright
RED hat: her hair was short and
dark and curled about her head
cr1sply and fell In a soft, careless
bang over her eyes. She had
lighted the fire which he had LETT
laid on the hearth and she was
curled up in the corner Of Ted and
Judy'S dark blue sofa, reading an
old copy Of Vanity Fair.
The freight, falling upon her
gently, revealed the fact that
beneath the gray, wool dress she
had a slender, compact little figure
with softly rounded breasts and
lovely, slim legs.
Kipp saw all these things. not
all at once, but gradually. Then
he closed the door. He smiled. It
was slow, attractive and alto
gether pleased smile.
He said: "How do you do? This
Is my apartment, isn't it?"
He was quite sure he had never
seen her before in his life but he
knew at once that some way he
must contrive to keep her here.
that finding her here was as de-
nghtful as it was surprising.
She was regarding him with
amused gray eyes. "Oh, yes" she
told him politely, I'm sure it's
your apartment, although I didn't
know it until a few minutes ago.
You see, supposed Ted and Judy
still lived here until felt some
thing different about the place.
Then I started prowling around
and discovered all your things" +"
She indicated his desk between
the two tall windows and his
prints over the mantelpiece and
some photographs scattered about
in silver frames. But by that
time had lighted the fire and
was badly in need Of a cigarette.
So I stayed to smoke one. I hope
you don't mind?"
Kipp said he didn't mind at all
and closed the door. He said:
"On the contrary. I think it is
great fun finding you here and if
you'll let me I would like very
much to give you a cocktail. But
before do, would you mind tell
ing me how you got in?"
To Be COntinued)