OCR Text |
Show THE STORY THUS FAtt: Zorle Corey, timid firl, Is expected by her employ tfs wife to deliver In person some thirty Invitations to tea, of a rainy evening. She picks op the Invitations and starts ont, , tut! discouraged, leans against a telephone tele-phone nole and cries. A handsome itianfer comes along, learns her story, rrabs the Invitations from her and tears tnem np. Zorle meets her fiance's uncle, Admiral Duncan, who practically forces tier to accept a Job to edit his memoirs. Zorle's Aunt Hannah protests, . but Admiral Ad-miral Duncan wins. The handsome itranger picks up her suitcases and brings them to the steamer, "Samoa." On board, Bliss Amber Lanning claims i occupancy to the same stateroom. CnAPTER V Zorie closed her eyes, because they were suddenly filled with tears. , These tears were, as usual, tears of fury directed at her meekness. She leaned back against the pillows. She Intended to take a shower in a moment mo-ment and dress In the bathroom. She fell asleep. The ringing of the telephone awoke her. She opened her eyes and looked about the state room with dismay. It was empty I ' Miss Lanning had finished dressing ' and was gone! Zorie glanced at her wristwatch. It was 7:21! She answered the phone. It was Paul again. His tones were the icy I reserved tones of a man who is furious fu-rious but who, because others are present, is controlling himself. "Zorie, what's become .of you? We're all ready to start dinner." 'Til explain everything," Zorie answered an-swered tremulously. "I won't be a jiffy." After she had taken her shower, and was looking for a bath towel, she learned why. There had been four hand towels and four bath towels. tow-els. Miss Lanning had used them al They were strewn over the bathroom bath-room floor. A hot wave of anger went over Zorie, and for a moment she stood, dripping, with her fists and her teeth clenched. At that moment, she hated hat-ed the slim, beautiful, arrogant Miss Lanning. She opened her trunk, having to look through her bag for the key, ind found three ' hand towels she had intended embroidering for Aunt Hannah's birthday. They were mere wisps of towels. She could not dry herself at all thoroughly. "Some day," Zorie announced, Tm going to be like that. I'm go- ! in? to be arrogant and ruthless and I and brutal." I She dressed with haste. She had mue ume to give ner nair. ane slipped into the navy-blue dress, zipped it up and stepped back and I considered herself in the mirrors. She opened the door. A man was standing in the corridor a dozen feet away with an unlighted cigarette in his mouth. He was flicking the wheel of a lighter. He held the , flame to the cigarette, but his eyes were on Zorie and they remained on . her as she shut the door and started along the corridor toward him. He was a short man in a dark gray suit, with wide sloping shoulders shoul-ders and scrubby-looking dark red hair. Slanting eye-sockets gave his dark eyes a cynical expression. As she passed him, his eyes narrowed, nar-rowed, and they were as bright, as alert, as the eyes of a ferret He made her feel uneasy. She found an elevator and went up to B Deck. As she entered the 1 wide cross corridor, she saw a man coming down the stairs from the deck above. She noticed him only because he looked so smart and at tase in his white dinner jacket and black trousers. His shiny black hair - graying at the temples, and he looked distinguished and Important. Also, he seemed foreign and interestingly inter-estingly dissipated. He was the kind of man about whom you might say hat the skin under his eyes was, the graveyard of his follies. As Zorie's glance became a stare, nd her heart suddenly pounded, he noticed her. He stared, then smiled ith one corner of his mouth. His wis came down a little and he now oked as a blase man might look hen he scents prey. He said in a cultured, purposeful 'ce, "Good evening!" and paused. Zorie stared at him a moment r.ger with bright fascinated eyes, started down a corridor almost l run. J Men with dark faces and little I hite scars under their left eyes f we, she supposed, not unusual, yet j e was sure, she was positive, that black-haired, dark-skinned man Jth the' little star-shaped scar un- J ft left eye was the man she J" seen in the green sedan when x fieve Duncan had hid behind the 1Phone pole and her. Paul opened the door to her knock, walked into the room with her art still pounding. Steve and the A to WCre 8t 0ther end 0f the a j1?' whIch was fully twice as large $ room she and Amber Lanning i..re 8naring, Beyond was another ' room. 5 toT!16 iree men wore white or pale- f tri evening Jackets and black ) J361"8' se glanced at Paul, tall Sh!!Lalght and splendid-looking, i b?v expression in his eyes she j 85(1 been prepared for. toSty 8rry rm late" she 63 id lT late" e admiral said, I Wit, u UUful womar's privilege." w"? h,s cly white hair, his fur- red face and his lean erect- 5 ness, he looked distinguished. Something Some-thing happened in his china-blue eyes as he took her in an almost imperceptible tightening. His expression ex-pression did not seem to change, yet he betrayed, as his eyes quickly ran down her, surprise and disappointment. disappoint-ment. She glanced quickly at Steve. He looked very brown and huge and handsome in a beige dinner jacket with a blue bow tie and a blue silk carnation the shade of his eyes. She wondered if he knew that the man she had just seen was aboard. He was looking at her as if he was delighted with her. It mystified Zorie. The admiral had betrayed disappointment in her appearance, and she had not been surprised. Steve was gazing at her with unmistakable un-mistakable admiration. Why? It seemed that whatever the basis was for their contacts, he was always mystifying her. He slowly grinned, turned and went into the other room. He returned re-turned with a white flower in his hand. It looked a little like a gar- He took her lightly in his arms and they started to dance. denia, but its white petals were more fragile. It had a spicy-sweet odor that was strange and exotic. "With the compliments of Admiral Duncan," he said in his deep voice. "It's an old island custom." He put the flower in her hair. As he bent down and fixed the flower he said in a voice too low for the admiral ad-miral and Paul to hear, "I'm proud of you, baby." Zorie was more mystified than ever. No man had ever before put a flower in her hair. Her cheeks were burning. She could not decide whether he was making fun of her, being sorry for her, because of her wrinkled dress, her lack of makeup and Paul's cool disapproval of her tardiness, or whether he was deliberately delib-erately teasing Paul. Whatever his motive was, she felt grateful. "Thank you," she said, with warmth. "What is it?" "White ginger." He picked up a cocktail from a tray and handed it to her, but before she could accept it, Paul said curtly, "Zorie doesn't drink, Steve." It wasn't true. Although Paul dis-. approved of drinking, because of hi?-demonstrably hi?-demonstrably harmful effect on brain tissue, both of them sometimes had a cocktail or two at faculty parties. par-ties. Paul was furious because she was late, and he was punishing her. Steve was sadly shaking his large curly head. "What a pity," he drawled, and drank the cocktail. Zorie had never known such luxury. lux-ury. Two waiters, or stewards, served the dinner and their obvious awe of Admiral Duncan, who barked at them and criticized every dish, reminded her that he was not only a garrulous and meddlesome old man but a very rich and powerful one. She was glad when dinner was over. Paul said, "Let's go up and dance," which surprised her. "I'd love to," she answered, hoping that Steve would accompany them. His presence would postpone the inevitable inevita-ble scolding, and she was determined deter-mined to question him. But Steve said carelessly, "I'll see you in a few minutes." 1 In the hall, Zorie waited for Paul to begin. When he didn't, she glanced up at him. His profile was more thoughtful than stern. He asked her how she thought she would like working for the admiral, and she answered cautiously, "All right." Then he glanced at her and said, "What do you think of that beautiful big brother of mine now?" "That was a nice gesture," Zorie answered, "his putting this ginger flower in my hair." "Yes," Paul said. "Steve is very good at gestures. Most women fall for him like a ton of bricks. He's that utterly irresistible combination a handsome rascal with the tender considerateness of a Raleigh." Zorie wondered if Paul was 1al- ous of Steve. "I'm not falling for him," she said. "No?" He laughed softly, but with no humor. "Well, you wouldn't be the first of my girls he's tried to steal." "Did he," Zorie asked demurely, "have much luck with the others?" "He's always had a very smooth line," Paul replied. "Watch out for it." "I shall," Zorie promised. They started to dance. Paul danced well but without much enthusiasm. en-thusiasm. He didn't dance often enough to keep in practice, and if you aren't in practice, you bump into people. Paul kept bumping into people and apologizing. He became annoyed. The slight rolling of the ship kept sending him off balance, and that annoyed him, too. j The ship rolled more sharply than ! usual. Paul and Zorie went sliding to the end of the floor with a mass of other dancers who seemed to think it was fun. Paul did not. "To hell with it," he said crossly. "Let's take a turn on rlerlc "All right," Zorie agreed. Just then Steve's deep, lazy voice said, "Is it against maritime law to cut in?" He was grinning at Paul. "Try it!" Paul said curtly. "I'm not the shark god's type." He walked away. Steve had his hand lightly under Zorie's elbow, balancing her as the ship made another deep roll. "Do you mind?" "No," said Zorie. "Paul doesn't like to dance." His blue eyes were admiring her. "You do." "Yes. I love it" She felt rebellious rebel-lious and reckless. "So do I," Steve drawled. He took her lightly in his arms and they started to dance. Steve was evidently experienced at dancing not only in crowds but on rolling ships, because they bumped into no one and when the ship rolled he seemed to know how to dance with the roll, so that their rhythm wasn't broken and she lost the fear she had had with Paul that her feet were about to shoot out from under her. Steve danced smoothly and he led firmly. He was so easy to dance with that Zorie felt herself relaxing. She looked about for Paul and saw him go out on deck. "Are you the shark god's type?" she asked. "I'm the shark god's adopted u : l J 1 1 Pi i nm T i-uuu, oicvc uiiaweicu. tvucu x was a kid, on Kauai, I did a lot of surfing in dangerous water. An old Hawaiian family took a fancy to me and their god happened to be the shark god, so they put me through the ritual. They wanted to protect me against all dangers in or on the sea." "It sounds pagan," Zorie murmured. mur-mured. It also sounded characteristic character-istic of Steve. "It is," said Steve. She laughed. "Are you pagan?" He grinned lazily down at her. "Incurably." She wondered why he wanted to dance with her why he was bothering bother-ing with her. There were many pretty pret-ty girls on the floor, and every time Zorie glanced at one of them, she was staring at Steve. He could have been dancing with any of them, yet he seemed oblivious to them. Why? "Why did you put this flower in my hair?" "Because I was delighted with you for taking my advice. I happened to be in the room when Paul phoned you. I thought he was being pretty stuffy. The longer you kept us wait-&vihe wait-&vihe more I admired you." So that was itl He thought her tardiness was due to her having decided de-cided to show Paul that she couldn't be ordered around! "Do you know," Steve asked, "that you've made my grandfather as happy as a kid with a new red engine?" "Why?" "He likes to have a pretty girl around," Steve answered, "and he's sure you're going to do wonders with his book. You've got to be tough with him. If he takes a wrong slant, don't hesitate to back him down. You're clever. You can. Do you mind if I sit in on some of these sessions?" "Won't it be dull for you?" Zorie asked. "No. I'm interested in the book. Nobody's ever written up the family and I'd like to see it done right It's really the story of Hawaii as illustrated illus-trated by one amazing family. You're going to fall in love with Uluwehi. Has Paul told you much about it?" "No." Steve was still holding her lightly, and dancing smoothly, and paying attention to no one on the floor but her. Zorie felt reckless and gay. Steve was flirting with her. He was managing to say nice things to her without making love to her. Her feelings about him were so contradictory contra-dictory that she felt confused. She realized that his charm, his warm personality were dangerous weapons that he used with deliber-ateness. deliber-ateness. She was not often suspicious suspi-cious of people, but she could not help being suspicious of this tall, deep-voiced young man with his graceful ways. There was simply , no reason for him to be wasting his time on her. (TO BE CONTINUED) |