The Wilmington morning star. [volume] (Wilmington, N.C.) 1909-1990, 1944-01-22

seemed to have mastered even in
thickest traffic. ''You do not mind,
senorita''
No. But let me give you a whis-
per of advice, Armando. Do not
always trust Prism's pronuncia-
ton. Occasionally she is wrong, !"
Eyes, Miss Baker. Still she
knows some glorious Words He
cast second quick sidewise look,
this time toward their newly ac-
quired passenger. Then every
|. thing is okey-dokey. Miss Baker,"
"Okey-dokey,'' she sanctioned.
She turned and really looked at
Richard Blythe for the first time
since she had seen him on the
plane. "Okey-dokey to you. too"
She said. incidentally, you're still
as handsome as decided you were
on the flight to Dallas-but don't
get worried. I did have designs on
you, but I've changed my mind
now"
Then I am lucky. I wouldn't
bother with an unpredictable dame
tell me, do you prima dumas
caper like that all the time"
Il wouldn't know" The singers
answer was sweet. You see I'm
SO famous I don't have to worry
about what other prima donnas-
as you call them-do. That's for
beginners. AS for myself" she
claimed airily, I'm just natural,
normal human being"
If you had a calliope trailing
you, you'd defeat a Touring cir
GUS"
Did you ever take lessons from
Tod Patrick, my manager? You
certainly get into his territory
when it comes to what laughingly
is known as masculine wit"
Il don't know your Tod Patrick.
But 1 do know you've mentioned
him twice in 80 minutes. To me
that seems significant
Tears of genuine merriment fill
ed Mallory's eyes. 1T is insight
ficant. Tod Patrick is like the vii
lain who holds the mortgage"
They were now circling about the
Caballito statue, the one of Charles
", as Armando guided the ma
chine into Reforma boulevard.
Il have heard" said Blythe,
that the sculptor who did that
was so embarrassed when he dis
covered he'd left stirrups off the
saddle that he committed suicide"
''Oh, Mr.. Blythe, that is lie"
declared Armando with fiery patri-
otism.
Mallory placated him. 1T is
lovely statue, Armando.'
Blythe, too, hurried to say. Il
lever did believe it. Armando."
Where are we going, anyway"
the girl asked her driver. Looks
like I'm being taken home"
"Oh, no. I am driving you and
your guest to the park. Sunday is
not Sunday without joining the pro-
menade in the so-beautiful Cha
pultepec park
He is right" said Richard
Blythe. 1t is almost as much
part Of the Sunday ritual as mass.
And. of course, the bullfight."
I'm not 60 to bullfight until
after I've done my concerts" said
Mallory.
'Chapultepec mean Hill of the
Grasshopper'.' said Armando.
You see, Mr.. Blythe, how 1 am
the good guide for Miss Baker I
know. l study. l learn" He left
off talking to prove that he learn
ed. Added to a violent signal on the
horn was a peppery sentence in
Spanish. Mallory caught the word
'bopped' and knew the other driv-
er was having his ears threaten
ed His usual formal, Il beg your
pardon, senorita," followed.
Mallory Baker did not answer.
She was craning her neck as they
passed the Montecito. Look" she
exclaimed, John and Bill Smith
must be going somewhere. A boy
is putting luggage into their car"
How do you know it's their
carr"
(To Be Continued