The Washington times., 1935-01-26

the home. You'll love their syn
That's SWELL" he said, with
mechanical enthusiasm, for he
was nerving himself to bring up
that beastly question of money. u
didn't know you went in for ma
tive dances"
"Oh, I love them, Stuart-not
for exhibition-just for my own
pleasure. feel that understand
a country when I can dance its
dances"
He nodded with a little smile
and then, as she attacked her
papaia with hungry enjoyment. he
took a firm grip on himself.
"Sharlene-" he began reSo.
lutely, but a bellboy was coming
up to their table with letters and
a tray.
THE Calawaii came in early
this morning from Los Angeles,
sir"
While Sharlene pounced eagerly
on the letters Stuart dug into his
almost empty pockets for the in.
evitable tip. He knew when he
glanced at the scant handful of
coins he produced that he could
not delay the hateful business any
longer.
"Sharlene-" he began abruptly
when the boy had left.
"Oh-here's one for you, dear"
She tossed him a letter and tore
open one of her own.
Two Letters
His letter was from Julie. Raw.
ing about her part in Lucien Nor.
rows picture. The test. She had
signed a contract for the picture
and was rotten rich" herself.
Sharlene's letter was from her
mother. Very long. She perused
it, smiling at times.
Stuart waited for her to finish
reading it, drinking his coffee,
nerving himself. He wondered if
he were feeling as wives had felt
since time immemorial: Waiting
to get the Lord and Masters at
tention to ask timidly: Gould you
let me have a little money this
week, dear? I need a haircut"
"Sharlene-" he began again.
desperately
eyes, dear?" She answered alb.
sently, without looking up.
"Why, if it isn't Stuart Pen
nington!" A man had approached
their table unnoticed by either OF
them. Stuart glanced UP, an
noyed at having the bone of con-
tention removed again, just when
he had it in his teeth. But then
he saw that it was William For
rester, the distinguished marine
painter from Los Angeles. He
rose quickly, grasping the others
outStretched hand.
II just got in on the CalaWaii.
What on earth are you doing
here, Pennington"
Stuart turned to Sharlene.
MAY I present Mr.. Forester,
sharlene? My wife, Mr.. Forres-
ter"
Wont you join us?" invited
sharlene, with her usual charm,
ing grace. Stuart pulled out q
chair for him.
"Well, WE'LL" Forester said
bluntly. II didn't know you were
married, Pennington. That's what
comes Of seldom looking at the
newspapers-eXcept the art com
ments. And, by the way, you're
smeared all over those art col
umnS, my boy"
"What?"
"Fact. Didn't you know 1t?".
"Oh, yes, Stuart" Sharlene
broke in, happily. Mothers let
ter mentioned it. I'm so glad!"
A Message
The critics are hailing you as
Q new Messiah. Seems they're
sick Of empty spaces dominated
by raw color without form, and
you've come along with your fig.
ur0S that tell stories-just in
time"
"WellI" said Stuart, rather
breathleSS.
"For Pete'S sake, why aren't
you there?" demanded Forester.
This is no time to be away. You
ought to be down at the gallery
every day. Don't tell me you
don't want to sell 'em!"
Indeed, I do; but I'm on my
honeymoon"
IT see." He looked again at
Sharlene. "But. but you've ar.
rived, my boy! I went to see the
pictures. They're powerful. Your
color raviShed my eyes-your
drsughtsmanShip is superb. Even
Il the public don't get your sym.
bohsm. they'll buy 'em for the
composition"
gou OanAt sell than yet,
B0aaEAN Gag8one protested. r