Evening Star Newspaper, March 28, 1929, Page 50

THE RAGGED PRINCESS Copyright, 1925, by (Continued from Yesterday's Star.) CHAPTER XLIIL ARTIN walked home, after his visit to Marshalt’s house, out- wardly unperturbed. Dora had not come down and he refused breakfast for himself. There were half a dozen letters for his discus- sion, but he no more than glanced at them until he turned to their contents for relief. He was making a half-hearted attempt to write a letter when Dora came into the room. She was in her negligee—she seldom dressed before lunch unless she had very urgent busi- ness indeed. One quick glance at her told him that she had not slept very well—there were shadows under her fine eyes and tiny crow’s-feet that had never shown before. He gave her a simple “Good morning!” and tried to make a job of his letters. He put his pen down at last. “Dora, what sort of work were you do'ng before I met you?” She looked up from the paper she was scanning idly. “What do you mean? Acting.” “What sort of acting—how did you start? I've never asked you before, my dear.” She returned to the contemplation of the morning news, expecting him %o press the question. When he did not: I started with Marsh and Bignall on the road. Chorus girl. Marsh went By ar Wallace Chicago Daily News I was on the way to provincial fame. It wouldn't have got me far. A provincial star doesn’t make a lot of money and I guess I'd never have reached a pretty little house in Curzon street—honestly. But I was doing well by comparison. Why do you ask?” “Where did you meet Marshalt?” She had gone back to her newspaper; he saw her hand tremble and did not press the questign. But, after a while: “Here in London. I wish I had died before I did.” He was on more painful ground here, no less for himself than for her. “Dora, are you fond of him?” She shook her head. “I hate him—hate him!” she said, with such vehemence that he was taken aback. “You think that means—some- thing? You've got it fixed in your mind that I haven't been a—a good wife to you. I know you feel that. I'll tell you the worst that happened. I loved him. I had ideas of breaking with our life and fetb\nz you to let me divorce vou. But I was good. I was so good that I wearied him. But I'm old-fashioned, in a way. And, besides, goodness pays. Easy women are like easy money—they don’t last long, and when they're ex- pended a man goes after something new. A woman can only keep a man by his wantings. Bunny, when he died, I knew. I don't mean his death in the flesh—but I felt the tremendous change in him. Just as I felt when Audrey died—yes, she died—the old relation- broxe and left us flat in a No. 3 town with not enough money to pay our fare back to London. I went with a trick- shooting act for three months, and then got into Jebball's Fit-Up show. I was everything from Jeading woman props! I learned more about electric wiring than most mechanics know——" She stopped suddenly. “I did everything,” she said shortly and then, “Why do you speak of this?” “I was wondering,” he answered. “It is queer, but I never thought of you except as—" “The clinging ivy? When you met me et your home dance with COLOR ship, bad as it was, had a meaning.” He lay back in his chair, looking at her from under his black eyelashes. “You don’t think he is dead?” ‘The quick, impatient lift of her hands to | was an answer, even if she had not spoken. “T don’t know. He doesn’t feel that way te me. And I care nothing.” She was sincere, he was sure of this. “I’Jld he ever speak to you of Mal- “The old man? Yes, he often spoke of him. The only time I have seen him really nervous was when he talked 'THE EVENING STAR, WASHINGTOXN, D. €, THURSDAY, MAR about ‘the man next door. Malpas hated him. He used to pretend to the police and people that he knew noth- ing about him, but he did. He said Malpas and he ‘were partners in the old days and that he ran away with Malpas’ wife—I forgot all he told me. Did you see Stanford?” He nodded. “Did_he say anything? Of course, I knew they were acquainted.” “Acquainted?” He laughed. “Bosom friends, I should think. Stanford was never a communicative sort of person, but I should have thought he would tell me that he was a friend of Mar- shalt’s.” He got up, walked across to the back of the settee where she was sitting and laid his hands on her shoulders. “Thank you for all you've sald. think you and I will get straight. How are you feeling toward Audrey?” She was silent. “It is a little unreasonable, isn't it? If man was the only trouble.” “I don’t know.” She shrugged her shoulders. “My dislike of Audrey is ingrained, I'm afraid. I was brought up to disiike her.” “I'm sorry,” said Martin. He patted her gently on the shoulder again and went out. He had an appointment in the city. Funds were running low; one of his ambling houses, the most lucrative, had en raided, and it cost him the greater part of a thousand pounds to hush up his connection therewith. "But the fact that he had been blackmailed by his nominee neither surprised nor shocked him. It was one of those inevitable emergencies for which he was always prepared. There was something like a recognized scale in such cases. He owed something to Dora in one respect, he remembered, as his car threaded the busy city streets. She had made it impossible to handle the clever handiwork of a certain Itallan engraver who specialized in mille notes, so per- fectly printed that even the Bank af France was deceived. Stanford hat passed them on to another purchaser and that gentleman had been caught with the goods and was now awalting trial. Martin lived on “touches” and “touches” had been scarce. It seemed that all the suckers in the world had suddenly been put under lock and key and it looked as though he would be reduced to the expedient—the last resort of every crook—of running a bucket shop and selling those oil shares which look so good on paper. It was not a profession that appealed to him, and though he met his man and settled the preliminaries of the new business he had no heart in it. He lunched alone at a restaurant in CHASE away the gloom with lively, stimulating gayety of color on fur- niture, floors and woodwork. Anything 'about the home — by refinishing with fast-dr)fing WaterSpar Varnish-Lacquer-Enamels —the easy-using lacquer that “driesinno time”— the varnish that’s not harmed even by boiling water — the brilliant enamel tough enough for automobiles. SOLD BY I|with too stringent a regard for mine Soho and there appeared the inevitable “spotter.” At another time he would have shaken off the sly-faced man who sidled Up to his table with an apologetic smile and took a seat uninvited. But now Martin's finances were in such a state that he could not afford to miss any chance, and although he expected little from the informer he wanted to hear what that little was. ‘The spotter's approach to Martin Elton was slightly different from the direct method he employed with such notorieties as Slick Smith. “Glad to see you, Mr. Elton. Haven't seen you for a long time. Thank you, I'll have a brandy. Things are pretty around here, Mr. Elton.” “Round here” meant round almost any place where men were not troubled and thine. “I though trade was looking up?” said Martin conventionally. “Ah, your trade might be.” The spot- ter shook his head sorrowfully. “I'm thinking about the poor hooks and crooks, Mr. Elton. Not that I've got any good word for them—they're low g:aplc. Even with them, trade wouldn't 50 bad if they knew all I knew.” “And what do you know?” asked Elton, keeping up the pretense, The spotter sunk his voice. “I've got something for you—and I'm the only spotter in town that's got next to it. Found it out myself, too. The clever ones are always talking about it, but it took me to clean up the way-in!" He smiled complacently. “That fellow who is supposed to be coming from South Africa has been here over a year! He's been in ‘bird'—got a lifer—but he's as rich as—" he mentioned a number of eminent finan- clers. “And richer!” “In ‘bird?’ What did he do?” “Shot a fellow or sump'n. But he was released more than a year ago, and I tell you he's worth a million—and more! The clever ones got the office that he was coming out, but they didn't know that he was here in England—in London. It shows you that ones don't know everything.” e clever Clever ones was & vague description— Martin knew it to signify the gangs that did not depend upon the little man for their information. “PFrom South Africa, you say?” he asked, suddenly interested. “He's been in prison—on the breakwater?” “It's something to do with buying diamonds. There's a law in South Africa that sends a man to the awful placs for years and years if he buys diamonds. I can't understand the clever ones not finding him. He's a lame man—" “Lame?” Martin half rose to his feet. hat is his name?” “Well, he goes by the name of Brown, but his real name’s Torrington—Daniel Torrington. And, Mr. Elton, that fellow's now.” slipped some money to the man, pald bill and went home. Dora was going out and was on the doorstep when he arrived. “I want you for one minute, Dora,” he said. He took her up to the drawing room and closed the door. “You remember last time Audrey was here? You taunted her with having a name which didn't belong to her; you told her her father was a convict on the breakwater for diamond stealing. Was that true?” “Yes,” she said in surprise. “Why?” “I asked you that night about him and you told me he was shot before his arrest and was lame. What was the name of Audrey’s father?” She was frowning at him suspiciously. “Why do you want to know?” “My dear,” a little impatiently, “it is not caprice that makes me ask. Wil you tell me?” “His name was Daniel Torrington,” she said. Martin whistled. “Torrington? I wonder! It must be the same man. He's here in London.” “Audrey’s father?” she gasped. “But he’s in prison; he's there for life! Mar- shalt told me that, That is why he wanted to marry Audrey.” “He knew that she was Torrington's daughtsr? You never told me that.” “There are so many things I didn's ;s EDWARD J. 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Yes, | all the time. rington!” vent up to her mouth. e ‘ ) : Iie gazed at her in amazement, as ‘orrington was serving a life sentence.” | ; 10 W Tebomen mare than & your | here occurred to him the same thought ago,” sald Mariin, “and kLas been In Lo}.;dnn mo&z‘ci it time.” e saw expression that came to her face =rd asked quickly: e “Did Marshalt know that?” She shook hier head. “No, if he had known he wouldn't that brought the word to her lips. “Marshalt must have known or guessed,” she seid in an awe-stricken “He was in the next house Bunny, Malpas is Tor- Oh!” Her hand Eyes to Windward. “Malpas!” she Of use in the field of aviation is & new device which provides a constant visual indication day or night of wina directicn and velocity. It may be usec industrially to regulate the heating of buildings. The indicator is in the boiler room and is connected to the wind vane on the roof. By means of self-syn- chronizing motors it gives distant indi- cations. 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