The Blood Red Dawn

nd then coming into the office and she was interested in the hope of seeing her at closer range. Mr

-five-yards-of-grandmother's-wedding-gown' column. Well, she's a walking ad for it. She's no raving beauty, but if she would throw out

iss Munch

!" in a tone calculated to freeze the irr

d tailor-made suit and a decent-looking

e office, dressed in plaid suits and velveteen hats; and when a cold north wind blew it seemed inevitable that they would appear in gay and air

ir clothes," Miss Munch used t

-to-the-minute dame that gets away with it and holds onto it every time, just the same. And any woman silly enou

in their own houses. She was wondering whether this might not be Mrs. Flint's case; anyw

reeable emphasis that Mrs. Richards had seen fit to give the fact that Mrs. Flint was bound cityward. At this stage she became lost in discovering so many points of c

against the slimy mud and swallowing it up in gray, futile anger. This part of the ride just out of Sausalito was always more or less depressing unless a combination of full tide and vivid sunshine gave its muddy stretches the enlivening grace of sky-blue reflections. Worm-eaten and tottering piles, abandoned hulks, half-swamped skiffs, all the

drops of moisture against the windows. Claire withdrew from any further attempt to watch the whirling landscap

ng them. Surely one was not to be persuaded into a panic by any such person as Mrs. Richards! And by the time the brakeman announced the train's approach to Yolanda, Claire had rec

hauffeur, stood with a dripping umbrella almost a

ess, Claire said to Jerry, with as inco

town. But I guess I was mistaken. She wouldn't

hot. Just a case of sniffles, and a good excuse for hit

rom Nellie Whitehead that there were moments when the gentleman in

to Claire, "the old boy starts in to cure a c

laire. She felt that she could not turn back at the eleventh hour. There was nothin

town to-day?" she fina

ry, swinging the car p

to be totally l

ough her mind, as Jerry stopped the

t oak logs crackling in the fireplace did so with indefinable distinction. The general tone of the surroundings was as little in keeping with the patchwork personality of its mistress as one could imagine. It was as if the singular completeness of Mrs. Flint's home left no time nor energy for a finished individuality. Claire got all this in the briefest of flashes, just a swift,

rward with a very red face and

and no mistake.... Here, let me have your coat. Come, you're quite we

at to his too-eager fingers. "Oh no, Mr. Flint! Thank you, no

a drink. If you're cold you take a drink to warm up; if you're warm you take one to cool off. You dry out on one, and you wet up on o

nted to let him have a feeling that she was accepting everything in a norma

ly you know ... if I'm to g

s, you and I. Maybe it will be much pleasanter to sit before

nd with a tremendous, if concealed, agitation. "Why," she laughed back, finally, "that would be pleasant. But I came to take dictation, Mr

emark which she felt would have fallen flat i

here," he said, pointing

se that it was all to be a pleasant lark, or it may have been his idea of hospitality. Of course he had been drinking, but she took comfort in the thought that there must be instinctive standards in a man like Flint that even whisky could not swamp. At least he must respect his wife-surely it was not possible for Flint, drunk or

ate circumstance that had driven his wife into a madhouse, and yet whenever her mother broached the subject Claire changed the topic with curious panic. She seemed to dread the hard, almost triumphant manner that her mother

this speculation when

s," he announced. His manner was brusk and

to find a cocktail at

er so slightly in her direction. Claire lifted the cocktail to her lips

. I don't care

ll send down-cellar

ou, not

, with a shade of menace in it. "Or maybe the right party isn't here. I've not

hat all the cards were on the table. She felt also that there was no immediate danger. Flint was far from sober, but he was in his own home. She had the conviction that he was merely skir

you that I don't care

ou'd be telling me a damned lie! You drink w

o ridiculous to find this rather wan and wistful indiscretion assuming damaging proportions. B

you?" sh

ave him credit for a high moral tone. Not that he ever took it.... I'll say that for him.... Ned Stillman didn't tell me, for the simple reason that he didn't have to. Nobody told me. I go to the Palace myself under pressure, and I've got two eyes. As a matter of fact, there

and hated Stillman with a curious confusion of impulses. It was a feeling of affection torn by the irritating superiori

uite the same thing. I've work t

ith me and all that sort of rubbish! Want a chaperon,

llon-cup in front of her. She was growing quit

eiterated, stubbornly. "I'

en't!" Flint brought his

why did you

mping office of mine. We've never even settled the matter of an i

eable. He gave her the impression of a petty tyrant abou

ve dollar

rather, how valuable you're likely to be." He thrust aside his soup and leaned heavily upon the table. "That's wh

Mr.

pport your moth

Mr.

leave much margin for hair rib

Mr. F

llman. I'll bet you don't yes-sir and no-sir him.... You know, that night I saw you at the Palace you quite bowled me over. I'd been thinking of you as a shy, unsophisticated young thing.

urch social," C

orn yesterday. Ned Stillman doesn't

or," Claire found herself explaining in spite of her anger

made the statement so ridiculous, she found herself wondering. Was she unconsciously ref

t is good! And eating ice-cream.... H

me in N

and looked at her keenly. "Where di

ollars a month doesn't leave much for hair ribbons or anything else. Going

to get at-your viewpoint. I take an interest in you, Miss Robson-a tremendous interest. Good Lord! I can dance one-steps and fox-trots and hesitations as well as anybody! I danced every bit as well as Ned Stillman when we w

er glad to get it settled. And she began to hope that she could persuade him skilfully against his warped convictions. She was trembling inwardly, too, at the thought that she might make a false step and find herself out of a position. Position

ould say Mrs. Condor was good enough, to include me in a little musical evening. That was on the night you saw me at the Palace. We dropped down for a dance or two after the music was over

illman musicales, and Palace dansants, and young Edington, and old lady Condor, all of a sudden ... and getting away with it as if you were an old hand at the game. Say, if you're that apt I'

creet silence. She had a feeling that it would be just as well to let him take his ful

ed Paint or Bonini's or some other Bohemian joint like them.... You know what I mean, no rough stuff ... but a good feed, and two kinds of wine, and a cigarette with the small black. Just gay and frivolous.... Of course I can get any number of girls to run around and help eat up all the nourishment I care to provide. But, good Lord! that isn't it! I'm looking for somebody with h

Claire's reply. She had been calm enough while he talked, but und

out. "I know, you need a little wine. I'm going down-s

r was over. She began to wonder about the trains. The storm was raging outside. She could hear the frenzied trees flinging their branches

at time the nex

ase!" He bobbed at her absurdly and went out into the hall. She lis

ing in his breath, "plea

ight? Why, wha

in track washed out. No train to

home to-night! I

ly, realizing the fu

l right to-morrow morning. You stay here.... I fix a pl

e window. Flint broke into the room noisily. She turned-he

hout. I understand that no trains are running.

id the bottles down wit

our ... your servant j

e should wor

I must.... You kno

t d

ignored the bottles on the table and, crossing over to the Sheraton sideboard, poured himself a s

deliberately. Then he rummaged in the china-closet for the wine-glass

with the roast," he muttered. And he pour

erself to make a pretense of eating, although her appetite ha

their writhings with ill-concealed impatience. She never had really put herself in their place, but she had had a vague notion that they carried on absurdly. Her fear all evening had been not what Mr. Flint would do or say or even suggest-she had been anxious merely to have the impending storm over, the air cleared, and her position in the office assured upon a purely business-like basis. She had really welcomed the forced issue; for weeks her mind had been entertain

trembling lips, that the sheer physical force of the male opposite her might shatter in one blow a will that could have withstood any amount of spiritual or material attrition. She had never seen Flint so clearly as at this moment; in fact, she had never seen him at all. Formerly, he had been a conventionalized masculine biped in a blue-serge covering who paid her salary and struck attitudes that were symbols of predatory instincts rather than an indication that such instincts existed. Life had, after all, been peopled by the precisely labeled puppets of a morality play; they came on, and declaimed, and ma

pped speech of passion and striking her to the ground with the energy of his stage business. She was afraid, almost for the first time in her life, with a primitive, abandoned fear. And suddenly her vista of womanhood narrowed to include the ugly foreground of life that youth had looked over in its eager, far-flung scanning of the horizon beyond. Suddenly she felt all the o

should say not! That's another one of the frau's convictions. Plain living at home so as to set the right example to the girls!" Flint threw his head from side to side, mincing out his last statement. "Gad

ity from irritability to good humor. Claire, still attemptin

d no idea.... The Japanese boy, you know

l." He winked broadly. "Can't get one ugly enough, I guess. Sing's a wonder. I copped him from the Tom Forsythes. You know-young

r Flint's statement. "The-the T

man! The sequence of ideas flashed through Claire's mind with flashing detachment. She leaned back in her seat and

ur mind to finish that glass of wine first as last. W

it was to be a fight to a finish. She was hones

be getting to work or figuring how I am to make the boat at Sa

seem to have an idea that because I've had a glass or two that I've lost my reason. You're an attractive girl and all that, Miss Robson, and I am interested in you! But please don't flatter yourself tha

r. Flint, can't

reasons are as good as yours. Now let's

ut that was to establish her pace in the final contest; she would stand or fall upon the record she made at this moment. For she was trying out something more than Flint's temper, something greater than a mechanical adjustment of human relationships-she was trying out herself. She sat for some moments, thinking

ed finall

is feet in

telephone," sh

where?... Wha

bit wearily, "at least I'm a

ppeal to her expectations of him in the r?le of host. She could have lied, of course, and told him that she wished to telephone her mother, but she had not yet been cornered sufficiently to resort to so distasteful a weapon.... As she left the room she found herself wondering whe

honing, and looked at Flint. He was clutching at the table with bo

to the Tom Forsy

es

or Stillman....

es

you want

ch, I guess you heard

She decided not to sit. Flint bore down

Ned Stillman and ask him to fetch you away from my house in his car!" He stopped and took a deep breath; his words were no longer passionate; instead, they were precise and cool and venomous. "Understand me, young lady, I'm through with you. I wouldn't care, if I thought you were really virtuous. But you're too clever for a virtuous wo

isily and rose. The Japanes

ugh!... Good night, Miss Robson, and a pleasant jour

atic flourish.... Presently Clai

e idea had just struck her. "Of course, he must

the entrance hall