Argosy All-Story Weekly, November 13, 1920 — page 18: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

296 up about his correct white collar and leaned back beside Norine, his shoulder touching hers, one hand dropping over her gloved one. She did not repel that. ‘“You’re going to the Cecil with me to- night,” he said; “ after that—-some show. This chaperone business is bosh! No rea- son why—”’ “Sorry! I happen to be going to the Cecil with—some one else—and the the- ater as well.” Jerry’s hand tightened on hers. “Who?” he demanded. “The orchid!” Norine’s mouth puckered into amused raillery. ‘It’s first night for Leroy Gamble’s new play, and we’re turn- ing out en force. Leroy belongs, you know. Ranfeld is doing our particular party, just Betty and Jim, Jean and Struthers, so you see we shall be chaperoned by two thor- oughly married—”’ ‘““ Married enough!” scoffed Jerry. “ But with Jean Fathom—” He laughed shortly. “What do you mean, Jerry?” the iris of Norine’s eyes had widened and her mouth set the slightest bit as it did when she was displeased. . ‘Nothing. Just gossip.” “What gossip, Jerry?” *T told vou—nothing—kid!”’ CHAPTER If. BETWEEN THE ACTS. HERE was not an empty seat at the first performance of Leroy Gamble’s play. All over the brightly lighted theater jewels glittered in high-waved hair, and shoulders gleamed above gowns that ‘Paris and New York had combined to make exclusively perfect. It was the season’s first fashion display, and it did it- self well. Opera-glasses were busy between acts, and not a few of them focused themselves more than once on Ranfield Masters’s box- party. His three women guests were quite noteworthy enough to demand this atten- tion. Jean Fathom, Junoesque in black velvet with embroidered splashes of green and silver, her dark face and sullen mouth ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. settled into the smile that knew it was un- der scrutiny. Betty Lennon, less imposing but with her brilliant natural color offset- ting her greater irregularity of feature. And, a bit in front of these two, Norine Lawton. | The gown of the latter was one of Bet- _ty’s, artfully dyed and remade, yet the unusual quality about her that made her, above all, a personality, succeeded in ren- dering the other two women only a foil for her beauty. Her mouth was unnaturally red in the perfect Watteau delicacy of her face. Perhaps the opera-glasses started with Jean and her Callot, but they lingered on Norine. Behind her shoulder the girl was _ lis- tening to a murmured story by Jim Len- non. Jean laughed very long at its ending, and Betty said: ‘“ Rather rottener than usual, Jim!” Norine herself gave a polite little gurgle and glanced toward Ranfield Masters on her left. He was in the act of. recovering from an attempted smile. ‘““He doesn’t like Jim’s stories, either,” mused Norine. ‘‘ Rather decent of him.” ‘ Frightfully boring!” Betty was saying to heavy-jowled Struthers Fathom. “ In- terfered like the deuce with my golf! Jim said I’d fallen off when I played with him yesterday.” ‘“What’s your handicap?” inquired Fathom. Norine lost the answer in Masters’s voic beside her: ‘“ You liked—the flowers?” She caressed the roses at her. corsage. ‘IT never wear flowers that I don’t like. How did you know I loved gold?” | He flushed boyishly in answer to the compliment. His eyes half left hers, as though he feared what she might see in them, then returned again. ‘The dress you wore at Betty’s tea,” he said. ‘‘ You're always lovely! But in that—”’ “Sh! Ill tell you a secret that should never be whispered among these Callots and Poirets! That dull-gold dress began life as my mother’s teagown!”’ “It looks it! And you, too! As though you had stepped down from some old paint- ing!” He voiced the feeling she had first aroused in him. Ghboo S (E@)