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Show 11 FICTION corner II I KITTENS HAVE CLAWS I J By FAITII ELLEN SMITH old maid, living on a pension &n loving a pet cat " "I don't like cats," Nan mur mured. t Doris extended a toeless suedi sandal and a slender, silk-clad leg "Cats!" she said. "Look at thai run." "I see it," Nan said. "Ralph bought me an angora kit ten for my birthday. The darn thinf must have been at these stockings. "I'll have to dash In somewher and get another pair and put therr on. You come with me, and you car have these. They'll do for you, i: you're careful mending them." "I can't come with you," Nar said. "You can't? Why not?" "I've got a a kmd of a date." "A date with that man, of coursel Where?" ' "Oh never mind." "Thank you," Nan said. "You would! I never could learn to boil water; but the way you used to cook and scrub and fuss around when we lived together 1 Well, it's lucky I had what it takes to get a fellow that can afford a servant. . . . But, of course I'm younger than you are." "Eleven months," Nan said softly. '. . . Just a baby, really. Ralph always calls me Babe. . . . Did I tell you he's in line for the vice-presidency?" vice-presidency?" "Is he?" r ,h' V . ' I 1 J1" vf te"- "" " J y '-li h;C' l J I .il-A 1 1 "YOU'VE got to go after them," 1 Doris said. She sat on the upholstered up-holstered wall seat, opened her bag, took out her vanity case and her cigaret case. "That's the trouble with you. You're mousy." "I'm what?" Nan asked. She sat on the stiff, hard chair on the other side of the little table and took off her gloves. They were white gloves, rubbed shabby by repeated clean-. clean-. lngs. "Mousy!' said Doris. "Mousy girls never get anywhere. Remember Remem-ber what I said that first day we saw Ralph going up in the elevator?" eleva-tor?" "You said, 'There's the man I'm going to marry, unless he's got a wife and ten kids'." Doris studied her reflection in the mirror of her vanity. Her hand, 1 long, crimson nails gleaming, patted This I the crisp blonde , , waves beneath her Week S small hat. A large Best diamond on her fin ger kindled to Fiction green and orange flame under the 1 subdued lights of the dining room. "Well, he had a wife and one kid, but I did It, didn't I? Do you suppose sup-pose I got him by sitting still and wishing for him?" "No," Nan said. "I used my head. I found out he worked for J. B. Simpson. I made up to the Simpson crowd when 1 met them in the washroom and took to calling for that dumb egg of an Adams girl for lunch. I got introduced intro-duced to him M "I remember," Nan said. "I worked to get that man. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have an apartment apart-ment on East Sixtieth Street and this set of summer furs that cost fifteen hundred dollars and my own car and a house in the country next full, when Ralph gets his promotion .... Now, about this man ?" she said. "What man?" said Nan. Color of a newly open wild rose flooded her face. Her childishly honest brown eyes were starry. "How should I know what man? I haven't seen you since I had you to the wedding six months ago. A girl that's attractive to men and shows some initiative might be married in six months. But of course you're the kind that will drag along waiting wait-ing for him to wake up and know you're on earth until he marries omebody else. . . . You wouldn't be so bad, at that, if you took a little pains with yourself and got tome decent clothes." Nan, who had started to slip off the coat of her suit, buttoned it again. The lining, she remembered, had ripped a little on the shoulder. "And you'd be a good bet for some man who wanted a sensible, economical wife that didn't ;mind housework." "There's the man I'm going to marry unless he's got a wife and 10 kids now." i "Sure ol it, my dear! J. B. depends de-pends on him for everything. He and J. B. are like that. . . . Remember Re-member the fellow came up to the apartment with him the week before be-fore we were married?" "Of course. Why wouldn't I?" "Well, you moused around as if you were only half there. Hardly opened your mouth all evening. That was J. B." "Was it?" "There you go! That's just what I mean. You don't take any interest. inter-est. Now if this man " "But what makes you think there is a " "It's written all over you, darling. You're in love. I never saw a worse case." Nan's big brown eyes lowered to her glass. She became peony-red. "Well, if you don't see fit to confide con-fide in your best friend, that's your business. But you let me tell you this for your own good. If he's worth having, don't let some other girl beat you to it! You will, though. You're all set for being a neat little "Don't be sillyl I'm dying to sea him. I'll drive you there." "You needn't bother. It isn't far. Just back to the office." "Oh!" Doris said. "Waiter, bring the check. We're in a hurry. . . . Didn't I tell you? Nobody but you would think of slaving away at th office on a lovely Saturday after noon. You ought to call your man and make him take you to th movies. You ought to keep aftei htm. . . . Ready?" "I'm ready," Nan said. They walked out of the dim cocktail cock-tail lounge into the sunny freshness of the afternoon. "I guess I'll get my stockings over there at Bryand's Doris said. "We have charge accounts at all the big stores. If I buy them al some little shop I'll have to pay for them myself, and they cost five dollars. dol-lars. You don't mind if I don't drive you to the office, do you?" "I don't mind at all," Nan said, extending her hand. "Good-bye, Doris." "I'll give you a ring," Doris said. "You must come up to dinner some night when I haven't company and tell me all about your romance. I'll be seeing you." Nan walked the two familial blocks to the familiar building but she did not go up to the office where she worked. She took the elevatoi to the floor below it and stepped oul Into the spacious reception room oi the J. B. Simpson company. She walked past the deserted information informa-tion desk toward the private offices and tapped lightly on one of the doors with the tips of her gloved fingers. A man's voice called, "Come in!" She went in. The man got up from behind a big desk and came to meet her. Ht was tall and becomingly gray-haired. gray-haired. There were laughter wrinkles wrin-kles around his keen eyes. "You're late, Nan," he said. She put her arms around his shoulders and lifted her face for his kiss. "I've been with Mrs. Jenkins." Jen-kins." "Who in seventeen kingdoms i Mrs. Jenkins?" "You know. The girl I used to live with. The one that married Ralph Jenkins." "Oh!" he said. "How is Ralph Jenkins, by the way?" "He was a good man until that designing cat got hold of him," the man said. "Now he has alimony to pay one woman and another running run-ning him ragged for new cars and this and that and he'll be lucky il he manages to keep his job. ... I hope you're not seeing much of her. You're not her kind, thank heaven!" "Oh, she's all right," Nan said tolerantly. "She did us one good turn, anyway. You know you always al-ways say you fell in love with me that night you came up to the apartment apart-ment because I kept quiet the entire en-tire evening." "My little mouse!" he said fondly. Nan winced. "But you won't have much chance to see her after we're married mar-ried anyway. When we come back from abroad we'll be at the country house most of the time. Unless sbe comes out there. . ." Nan smiled. "You needn't worry, J. B. She won't come out there,' she said with auiet certainty. |