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Show I ; t JLUrr jlLJKu By May Harris in Town Topics H 1 TIOLBTS" Judge Lester Hr J heard his wife say as ho B ' waited on his side of the H partition in tho florist's shop for the H girl to complete his order. H; Meeting one's wife unexpectedly in Hi a crowd, or hearing her voice where Hi one had not expected to hear it, is al H ways surprising, and the surprise in Hi Lester's case had its tinge of annoy- H ance. Htf i The division in the shop was an or Hn ' nainental one a white enamel lattice H J k draped with indoor vines, and sug- Hfj gesting by skillful repetitions vistas w of fresher beauty and higher prices. 1 From violets and primroses, one went H back by easy stages to lilies and roses H and orchids; the damp warmth of the H interior held the mingled scent of the H flowers the garnered mortuary B sweetness of the apotheosis of bloom. Lester, himself, standing among the B plate-glass cases, struck a note out of H harmony. The outline of his face was f sharp and severe, and his black eyes m behind their perpetual barrier of HL glasses were discriminating and cold. H The flowers he had just purchased w were American Beauty roses the V , flare of their rich extravagance of fl color lingered in his mind. They were 1 effulgent, riotous, expressive things fl. he had never before troubled with. j Now, he was troubling. They seemed w an intentional note of motley for a j masquerade in which he meant, at H last, to take a part. M In the background he heard the H rustle of the crisp tissue paper as the f florist's assistant put his roses in their H long green box. A rather cynical H, smile touched this young woman's ' face. Flowers to her sophisticated H mind were symbols of concrete things. H She put Lesters' card in, and scrawl- B ed the address he had given her, on H the wrapper of the box. H, "Not a chorus girl's name," she re- H fleeted, as she wrote it. "Something H serious." H Lester lingered. If he went around H1 the division of the shop on his way H to the street entrance, he would be B face to face with his wife. And tho H encounter at this moment, seemed H. something decently to be avoided. It V was his first recognition of the cornel1' corn-el1' promise his new attitude must de-Hi de-Hi velop. If he had forgotten to be im-H im-H pulsive in the passing of they ears, he H felt he could learn to be evasive. H His wife was a long time making H up her mind it was characteristic. K It had taken her a year to decide to H marry him. H "Violets" she repeated, and the B tone of her voice arrested his atten- Hj tion with a new quality; it was haunt- flf ingly sad. "Yes three bunches H!j please." jj It wasn't a familiar tone; if she was HjJ never vivacious, Lester had, also, Mj never known her as sad. The monot- r onous levels of their married life had H, included neither sorrow nor joy. Hj "What address, please?" n "Oh, I'll take them," Mrs. Lester flf' said. She seemed on the point of going. His tactic of waiting was nearly successful suc-cessful and then, it wasn't! She came suddenly around the latticed barrier and they faced each other. She was startled; ho saw that, and granted grant-ed that surprise was natural, but what was not natural was the look of fear she didn't want to see him; stumbling on him hero embarrassed her. His mind was trained to detail, and he adjusted himself quickly as he took off his hat. "Nico flowers here, aren't they? I see you've got some but how about a few more? Carnations " "No," she said quickly, "we've got plenty at the house. I have a standing stand-ing order with Wynne, for all we need. I dropped in here, because it's so attractive." at-tractive." "Yes," Lester agreed. She had gone to the new place, because she didn't want to charge these special flowers not that he would ever have known; some more obscure motive they stepped outside together, and he looked look-ed at the curb for her car. "I walked," she explained nervously. nervous-ly. "Well, I've a taxi"; it was an insane ending to his dash-into adventure. "I'll take you and your flowers where you are going." She turned to him with a sudden collected composure. "No, Howard, it's quite unnecessary. The hospital's just a little way down the street." "All right. Good weather for walking." walk-ing." He paid the taxicab' driver, and turned to accompany her, but she stood still. "Don't bother to come with me I'd rather go on alone." "You've got a visit to make? Who's ill?" "No no visit; just to leave the flowers." flow-ers." "Well that's easy. I'll wait while you do it." He understood he was thwarting her. Her face above the dark fur of her collar showed a pale distress. He thought he was quite familiar with her manner it was one of his secret irritations irri-tations that she seemed to have but one but now something was changed. Her personality during their years of marriage had become a long series of negations charm, beauty, cleverness clever-ness were absent, but by so narrow a margin that she seemed to relinquish them. She seemed, as he faced her, to bo emerging from the fog of familiarity, familiar-ity, in the long folded freshness of her youth. She met his scrutiny with serious, grey-blue eyes. Though they were not unfriendly, he recognized with a curious curi-ous pang that they had never been affectionate. af-fectionate. But he did not check it up as an excuse for himself. "No don't come, Howard, and don't wait. I am not going to make a visit only to leave these," sho touched the flowers with slim, gloved fingers. "It's just that I'd rather you were not with me." "Well at least, I might ask why?" At that, she hesitated, and when at last sho smiled the disarming wistful-ness wistful-ness of her expression repeated the impression of her youth. "Yes, you may. It's because I want to feel like I did before I married you." "I'm still curious," his quiet voice had an edge. "You 'want to feel ?' " "Yes If I felt like your wife, perhaps per-haps I wouldn't want to giv these flowers." "You know you interest me." He almost addedj "For the first time in years." "They're for Dick Rathbone," she went on with gentle, unstrained composure. com-posure. "I see. The man you were engaged to." "Yes." "You've kept up with him?" "Do you mean letters? No, I haven't heard from him in nineteen years." "But of him?" "Yes." They had moved on in the insistence of the 6 o'clock crowd, and when they paused, Lester saw they were standing at the hospital entrance, en-trance, unbeautifully grim, and always to be viewed, objectively, with a shrinking of tho spirit. "I heard," she added, "that he's dying. dy-ing. Tuberculosis." They drew up at the foot of the steps. "You see," sho went on, "I wouldn't be allowed to see him. It isn't the hour for visiting." For the first time, fa -a note of pleading came into her voice. Lester's gaze concentrated on his wife's face, but what he had to say was irrelevant. "It was Rathbone," he asserted, "who broke your engagement. And you never knew it was because of his health." "I guessed itwhen his brother and his sister died." ."And ho used to send you violets?" "Yes" Ho had the evidence in his "case," w and it interested him. "Don't let me keep you." He stood aside for her to go up the steps with grave courtesy, and there was no irony in the glance that met hers, when she paused and looked back. "You are sure you don't mind, Howard?" How-ard?" "Not in the way you think. We don't dine out tonight?" "No we've guests coming to us I'll be in time." She disappeared. Lester retraced his steps slowly, his mind busy with what he couldn't call a problem, and yet could not dismiss as immaterial. He was sure of one thing he hadn't the right to try to find out if this sentiment sen-timent his wife had shown was deeper than the vague remembrance of an early romance, for he was vividly conscious con-scious that he had never "made her forget. for-get. Beyond this, he had a sense of his immediate need to recover if possible pos-sible what he could. Matrimony was habit it was disaster it was anything any-thing one chose! even happiness for " some. And if not happiness, it might be a compromise and companionship a revaluation of accepted things. A revaluation had indeed begun already al-ready in his mind. He entered the florist's shop and went back through its avenues of shining bloom to find the girl who had taken his order. "Have you sent the roses? No very well. Change the address, please, St. Francis hospital. No no name just the hospital. They can always use flowers. Thanks. Good evening." |