The Washington times., 1936-08-01


near. I'm sure I'm honored,
Even his shyness fascinated her.
They had delicious mushroom
coup, which was speciality OF
her chef.
Then tender lobster Delmonico,
and young asparagus with mayon-
naise.
Glorious sauterne from Califor-
mia went with the lobster, and fol
lowing that, they drank burgundy
with tiny filet mignon that fairly
melted in ones mouth.
Afterwards came spring duck
ling with apple sauce and green
peas and new potatoes. This was
washed down by a champagne to
which Jimmy did full justice.
And so also did Lorraine.
CHAPTER XXI
At the back of Jimmy's mind
foated thoughts of Luana. He
was convinced by now that the
happenings of the evening had
been entirely her fault. Surely she
could at least have waited for him
in her apartment?
But Luana, he told himself was
spoiled.
Possibly she had gone off with
someone else, someone with more
money who could entertain her,
better? To justify this extraordi-
nary situation where he found
himself alone with the charming
Mrs. Vandaveer, perhaps he
wanted to think that.
Better think that!
His artistic sense revelled in the
beautiful Florentine hangingS OF
the salon and the priceless tapes
try that ran clear across one wall.
The very chair he sat on had
come from a palace of the De
Medici! The present day world
faded, and he was transported
back through the long centuries
to the glowing capital OF TuS-
cany.
The woman opposite him took
on a strange beauty. Her face
seemed to come near, and then
to recede. Her milky skin had
an unearthly radiance. She was a
creation of Michael Angelo, the
great Florentine painter! The
wine was in his head. To think
was to speak.
"You look-like Beatrice-Dan-
te's Beatrice" he said thickly, for
he was suddenly greatly moved.
IF I can inspire you to great
deeds, then to you I shall be Bea-
trice," said Lorraine, and her
voice caresSed him like the notes
of a violin-cello in some lonely
forest. She rose from her end OF
the table and came to him, put
ting her two hands in his.
Jimmy Randolph, for all his
good looks and twenty-five years
of Southern living, was inexperl-
enced with women.
Still less did he comprehend a
woman of the caliber of Lorraine.
At this moment she seemed to
him the epitome of all that was
spiritual and gracious. He was
still enwrapped in the vision and
the glamor of the city of the De
Medicis. The centuries had rolled
back, and in her Shimmery gown
before him was standing white
skinned beauty from Old Florence,
offering him help and inspiration.
He would be an migrate were he
to repulse her. He didn't want to
repulse her. The wine was in his
head, and as he held her hands it
was all he could do to keep from
kneeling at her feet.
For it was not only the wine
that had affected him, and the
sensuous beauty of his surround
:ngs, but a nebulouS something
that emanated from the strange
eyes of the woman, as though her
very soul were glowing in the green
depths.
Those eyes drew him, held him.
He rose. Their faces were almost
on a level, for Lorraine was tall.
Il want nothing better than that
you should be my inspiration. he
said slowly, stammering a little be-
cause of the inexplicable emotion
that had gripped him.
Lorraine willed that he should
kiss her. She knew he wanted to
kiss her, that he was emotionally
stirred, as she had intended.
But something held him back.
Was it because she was married?
Was it because he thought she was
far above him? Chivalry or shy
ness that deferred him, she wanted
the feel of those strong young arms
about her, drawing her to him!
And they were reaching toward
her row. ...