Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1935-07-31
lNSTALLMENT XVIII.

danced, her every moment,
were hauntingly familiar. His eyes
glued themselves to the graceful
peach frocked form, dancing so effort
lessly within the arm of tall, rather
heavily built man. They circled past
before the orchestra, and the trem-
bling Paul saw that he had been mis-
taken.
Furious once more at his eagerneSs
he sought to dismiss the surge within
him as one Of relief, but failed miSer-
ably. 1t was disappointment-disa
pontment that the girl had not been
ina He wanted to see her. Just to
see her
During the intermiSsion after the
broadcasting period he hunted for
Ray and found him asleep in the
check room. Below, on one Of the
quiet room floors, he put the SUM
bering tot to bed and a half dollar
in the palm of a maid assured an
attentive ear to possible sounds OF
distress in the night air.
He returned to the roof. The crowd
now augmented by laughing supper
parties, had become somewhat noisy
They were plainly there to enjoy
themselves-eager for the music to
resume. They mingled from table
to table.
The band returned in hilarious
mood. thanks to a nip or two in the
smoking ROOM Bunton having dlsap-
peared, Paul took over the stand.
They played superbly ballads in slow,
silky tempo. deity arranged to alter
nate the rich harmony of saXophones
with the thin sweetness Of muted
brass. bringing them together eventu-
ally in a flood of triumphant melody.
steaming numbers in the heavy, ruth
less rhythm that captures dancing
feet and carries them along, despite
distraught muscles that plead truce.
Well-timed reversion to soothing waltz
es that seemed to detach the roof
garden from its earthly ties of steel
and stone and suspend it in star
pierced space to the vibrant lament
of crying violinS.
Interspersed were bits OF merri-
ment when the press of dancers,
around the orchestra stand, stood in
their tracks, their bodies sWaying in
unison. eyes upon the Whitehead men
who cavorted for their amusement.
Puny, a painful-stretched pink bras
siere around his bulky torso and
strand of flve-and-ten pearls banding
his forehead, sang torch songs in
q throbbing falsetto with many i'm
passioned poses. The entire band
twanged ukuleles in a Sprightly bit
where Whitley agitated skirt of grass
over imaginary Waikikian sands. The
''glee club" filed to the front and
warbled Justify And the crowd voiced
its approval with the gusto of those
who. seeking diversion, find it before
them.
Paul stood in front of the band,
the music blaring in his ears. the
slowly moving crush on the floor pass
ing like a giant eddy, inSistent. clam
orous tapping at his feet. He had
feeling of conSpicuousneSs-of eyes
upon him-blue eyes, long -laShed
that he feared-yet hoped to meet in
the passing swirl of upturned faces.
, but hastily surreptitious and always
unavailing. She was not there She
had not come. A rush of disappoint-
ment that would no longer be denied
swept aside the flimsy rampant of in
difference that he had so laboriously
constructed. Tomorrow night perhaps,
he told himself.
He found that reflection upon this
possibility cheered him even after the
loss of nine dollars in a session of
dice, held in the chambers of Jencks
and Davidson, after the roof garden
had closed.
The week passed, each night a
repetition of the first. Paul's now con-
fessed thirst for glimsp of the girl
who had been his wife, became an
obsession, a haunting wrath that fed
before him and whispered of some
thing unattainable; of privilege for
feited. In the hotel. on the streets,
everywhere he went, he watched faces
until his eyeballs ached and every
shining gold touched head became
fnockery. The rapidly approaching
date of their departure from Dallas
filled him with dismay that grew to
an unreasoning terror and clutched
his heart with an icy hand.
Only pride and deep-rooted sense
of world lost kept his hand from
the telephone In the privacy of his
room. he found somewhat maniacal
joy in thumbing the phone directory
to the right page-but further than
that he could not go.
Saturday night was their last in
Dallas. On Saturday afternoon Paul,
slumped in huge chair in the lobby,
listlessly reviewed the ball scores as
quoted by the News. Turning the
paper, name caught his eyes and he
drew himself up abruptly in the seat.
His eyes devoured the item, an an
nouncement of garden party. given
that evening by Mrs. A. B. Haynes
for her daughter Carol, who, having
won distinction in her chosen profess
sion, fashion design, had resigned her
responsible position in Kansas City,
and would leave soon to open shop
of her own in Los Angeles. Miss
hayes, ne read. was Dallas girl,
graduate of Southern Methodist Uni
versity, and had pursued her studies
at Chicago University. etc. the usual
ballyhoo of the local girl who makes
good.
Paul rose from the chair and hur-
ried toward the elevators, carrying the
newspaper in his hand. His eyes
cleaned strangely. and the elevator
girl, usually chatty soul. was startled
into an almost wordless ascent to the
eighth floor.
In his room, he sat upon the bed
and again scanned the announcement
in the wrinkled paper. Then he
reached for the phone book and with
many verifying glances to insure alb
solute accuracy. copied the address of
Mrs. A. B. Haynes This done. he lit
a cigarette and lay back on the bed,