Evening star., 1938-07-17


week end, or that Joyce was going to fly to
Washington with him. That was all. Joyce
was devoted to her social life, and he went
with her. to house parties, dinners, what
ever she wanted He owed her that. Let her
have what little she could get.
1t was a chilly enough life for him; the
shadow of it was always in his tired eyes, his
tense, fne-drawn face. He worked inces-
sanity, making more and more money; and his
art collection was not really relaxation, but
more work.
1t was the collection that had brought
them together. They had met at cocktail
party, and he had been instantly attracted to
her. Just out of college, she had had job
offered to her before she was graduated, with
what seemed to her dazzling salary. She had
majored in Art, and now she was to work for
firm that specialized in the publication of
books on Art. Caladine had encouraged her
to talk, and she had tried to show off little.
Telling him about book on Universal Art -.
She hadn't known who he was, only that he
was obviously somebody, man OF distinc-
ton; it had been fatterlng to see him so
interested Il have some jade you might like
to see," he had said. MAY call for you on
Sunday morning."
She had been little taken aback when
he had come in superb car with chauffeur;
they had driven to his house on Sutton Place.
and she had seen his collection, found out
who he was Lewis Calladine, the banker.
The next day messenger had brought her
package, a little, white jade horse, exquisite
and very valuable. She had sent it back by
messenger, with note.
Dear MIR. Calladine:
It's such a beautiful thing that l
haven't any place for it. Please believe
how much appreciate it, but couldn't
possibly keep it,
She had been little angry and little
elated A present like that from man like
Lewis Calladine =.
He had telephoned her at her office, and
asked if she would meet him for cocktail
at a well-known hotel. She had accepted,
half-uneasy, half-defiant; she was prepared
to be coldly scornful if he tried to persuade
her to take back the present.
He was waiting in the lounge for her. and
at the sight of him any idea of being scornful
vanished forever He stood there quietly,
slender and straight, dark hair. gray at the
temples, steady dark eyes, a man we'll
disciplined by his own intelligence.
I'm sorry" he had said at once. Very
sorry. If you'll let me have another chance,
promise you I'll never make such mistake
again." The things she had meant to say
seemed incredibly cheap and silly, then. He
was deferential to her, seriously attentive to
every word she spoke, yet he had the advan-
tage; he was somehow in charge of the
conversation. She felt young, too young,
little clumsy.
II bored him. she had told herself when
she got home Il said such idiotic things -.
III never see him again, of course"
He had told her, weeks later, how he had
felt that day II felt so humble, he had said.
Afraid of you. Afraid you'd get away and
I'd never see you again. couldn't think OF
any way to interest you
I'D rather be with you than anybody else
in the world!' she had told him.
He had glanced at her, an odd look.
troubled and half-bitter. 1T too one-sided.'
he had said. 'You won't let me give you even
the very little could offer, and you give me
so much"
Il don't give you anything"
You let me come here You let me see
YOU That's enough
Al. E.