Henderson daily dispatch. (Henderson, N.C.) 1914-1995, 1937-07-23
CHAPTER 2

Ct1AH LII
MARY BARRETT tucked her
curls securely under her beret,
clutched her unwieldy portfolio
more tightly under her arm and
savored the excitement that rip
pled through her that February
night.
Her foot was on the first rung
of the ladder. Under her arm
were the completed sketches of six
frocks- first commission as a
designer for an obscure dress
manufacturer. These were to be
delivered the next morning.
She had worked late on them.
A clock struck 10 times as she
rounded the corner Of Fifth ave-
nue. and turned west into Fifty
seventh street. She pushed her
way against the cold, relentless
driving rain, not feeling it partic-
ularly, or the wind that whipped
her voluminous polo coat against
her shapely legs . She braved them
to lend tangibility to her thoughts.
She wanted to see the physical
shape of the smart shops which
were counterpart to the one in her
dream on which one day would
appear her name.
On the window Of a shop like
Tony Castles.
Mary Barrett had never pos
sessed or purchased anything from
Tonv Castles. Not for her were
the $500 or $500 gowns, the $50
hats. There were no French
labels in her wardrobe.
The satin curtains were draped
and drawn back in the Castle WIN
dow before which the girl, a soil
tary gazer on that rain-swept
street, stood. Within, a mink coat
was carelessly folded over an En-
pire chair. On the single form
was a print gown. The kind of
little thing you'd think you could
pick up for a song if you didn't
know it was Paris original.
1t was not at the gown but at
the small gold letters in the corner
of the window that Mary Barrett
stared raptly. They spelled Tony
Castle. The window was family
clouded with steam from her
breath and in it, directly above the
name in gold letters, she printed
Mari Barat with her shabbily
gloved finger.
Then she stepped back to sur
vey the effect.
Very nice"
Turning coolly and quickly, she
saw that the eyes belonging to the
voice were travelling swiftly and
very completely over her.
Muttering, "Masher!" she turned
crisply on her heel. But not be-
fore she noted-with no pleasure
whatsoever the rest of him
was darkly handsome, extensively
tailored and late thirty-ish. A
cinematic version of the man.
about-town, she thought, unim-
pressed.
Her retreating heels tapped
angrily on the sidewalk. AS
angrily as is possible when a girl
is trying to muster her dignity
while the wind whips her skirts
above her knees. Mary clutched
at hers.
The wind and her skirts got be-
You'd her control and her portfolio,
caught in a gust, flew out Of her
arms. The tapes released, the
sketches scattered and Skittered
over the wet sidewalk.
She clutched, grabbed, snatched
at them as they blew 80.
She was on her knees to cap
ture the last of them when a we'll.
shod foot was planted firmly on
the precious sheet.
Speeches. with dismay and
gathering fury, she saw her recent
annoyer pick it up. Still speech
less, she took it from him.
Hot, angry tears sprang to her
eyes as they settled on the mark
of that footprint.
."You beast! Look what you've
done!" !,
"You're an ungrateful brat!|, He
returned amiahly. "And ought
not let this chivalry go any far
Their, but will. Come along and
I'll fix these up so that you'll hard
ly know the difference"
Mary. too surprised to protest