Evening Star Newspaper, October 8, 1937, Page 40

ILLUSTRATED BY R.F. SCHABELITZ THE STORY THUS FAR. Beautiful Margit Agnew has her life and emotions under per- fect control. Then her impulsive sister, Irene, engaged to Waldo, falls in love with Charlie Jones, artist, trailer vagabond and a married man. That she is at- tracted to him herself Margit re- fuses to admit. Waldo nobly re- nounces his flancee, Irene and Charlic go off to Lake George, Felice, Margit's secretary, goes off to lunch with Waldo and Margit nearly goes off her head. Now, Felice and Waldo —have just learned that Margit is flying to Lake George, CHAPTER XVIL Adaptation and arrangement—copyright by | Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Corp., 1037, Waldo looked at Felice and said erazily, “I guess that’s that.” Felice ‘was pretty, blond and practical. She, too, had for a long time felt the over- oppressiveness of Margit Agnew’s routines and schedules. However, she had been paid an excellent salary and she had submitted to them ®ith o worse resentment than an occas- sional grudging indignation. When Waldo had asked her to luncheon that day she had first requested permission from Margit. And Margit, who was facing graver things, had assented only because Mrs. Bly had suggested it would be better to have Felice lock after Waldo than nobody. Felice had always thought of Waldo Beaver as a nice little guy—a sort of intelligent Caspar Milquetoast—but at lunch that day he had been full of spirit. After lunch they had taken in & motion picture, three cocktail bars, & restaurant with a good orchestra and four night clubs. She had amused herself by teaching Waldo the rhumba. Felice was a worldly girl, and her €irst reaction to the news that Mar- ®it had departed was one of distinct pleasure. After all, Waldo's fiancee had run away. Waldo had presented Irene to Charlie in fact. That put Waldo back on the list of available bachelors—and Felice had by no means intended to remain Margit Ag- new's private secretary all her life. She now took the arm of the shat- tered Mr. Beaver and led him into the drawing room, where a fire was still burning in the hearth. She made herself comfortable and as appealing &s possible, and she said, “It'll be sort of a relief to have the house to our- eelves for a few days—won't it?” Waldo drew a quivering breath. “I don't know.” He sat down in the chair facing the divan which Felice had claimed. “These things frighten me.” Felice shrugged one shoulder and smiled. “They shouldn't, Waldo. For 8 whole year I've been thinking that you were a pretty swell guy. It took a Jot of restraint to let Margit run your life without protesting and you did it gracefully. Now all that's sort of smashed up. The thing to do is to zelax and have a good time. You've got me for company——" Waldo was jittery and his eyes were far away. “I feel just like an oyster Wwhen the tide goes out and leaves it exposed to the sunshine. My nerves gre a-twingle.” She nodded sympathetically. “Why don’t you come over her and sit down beside me?” “Eh?” “I said—sit over here.” her words emphatic. “Oh.” Waldo was accustomed to eommands—but he sat down beside Felice with definite reluctance. She paused a moment to plan her eampaign. “You're pretty shaken by finding that Margit has left.” “To the roots.” *“But you were telling me at the Fungle Club that you were going to be independent from now on. You #aid you'd found new courage. I be- iieve it. I can see it in your eye. If you'll just let me massage the back of your neck it will relieve some of that tension.” She began to massage and Waldo began to fidget more than ever, She made her voice husky and provocative. “Now that you've found this new courage, you ought to use it to meet every situation. You ought to give way to your impulses. Let your- self go. Do as you please. Be a man.” ‘Waldo sat up straight and looked at her. She imagined that he was going to seize her and kiss her—because an expression of sudden determination had come into his eyes. He said, “I will!” She leaned toward him. “Fine!” “I will do just as I please! I hadn't ought to be frightened—had g She made Felice made the great light dawn 4n her eyes. “No—Waldo—dear.” “I ought to turn my impulses of fear into action!” She whispered, mean.” To her intense disappointment Waldo stood up and took several angry steps. “It's just what Charlie said! I'm still under the influence of Margit! I should fight that in- fluence with every ounce of my strength!” “Yes,” murmured Felice from the divan. “And I can help you a great deal.” He studied her. ean. mad!!! “I'll Waldo.” “Excellent” He stood for a moment silently arming himself with more and yet more rage. Felice waited tremul- ously—congratulating herself upon the astute way in which she had managed him. In another moment he would take her in his arms. From that point it would be easy to suggest that they get married right away. She'd move him up to Westchester—a charm- ing little house, pleasant people to play bridge with—cocktails every evening—a dash of suburban intrigue when Waldo got boring—everything ¢ozy and rosy. Waldo reached the apex of his emotion. “Together we'll put an end to Margit’s tyranny. Shake!” A shake was a little disappointing under the circumstances—but, then, ‘Waldo was a pretty timid person. They shook. Then he said. “Pack.” It was O. K. after all. “Ill rout Paul out. He'll drive us.” She was electrified, ecstatic. “Where are we going?” she mur- mured. He looked at her in utter smazement. “Where?” he answered. “Where? Why to the Prince James @otel, of course! We'll stop Margit “That's what I “I am sure you I've got to get mad! I am You promise to help me?” do—anything—to help you, life—or my name isn't Waldo Beaver, e Felice swayed. 8he gulped. “Pack,” Waldo repeated command- ingly. “We won't reach the scene of action until 10 or 11 o'clock tomorrow morning in any case!” Felice started feebly for the door. The plane bumped & little. Margit looked out of one of the cabin win- dows and in the moonlight she could see the metallic ribbon that was the Hudson, At her side Mrs. Bly slept soundly. In front of her, Mrs. Bly's nephew smoked a cigarette, and oc- casionally manipulated with lacka- daiscal delicacy the section of wheel in his hands. Margit tilted a notebook in the dim light so that more of the illu- mination in the plane’s cabin would fall upon it. She was making notes. She numbered them: Seventeen: Have Mrs. Jocelyn phone in re fitting. Eighteen: Have Tucker leave his plastic hat samples with Miss Ben- ham. Twenty: Play golf with Irene in morning. Act as if nothing had hap- pened. Plant suggestion that it would be a good idea for her to consider a psychoanalyst also interesting. Twenty-one: Think about basket- weave silks pro and con. Twenty-two: Tell Mason believe drop-stitch voiles definitely out for early Fall. ‘Twenty-three: Inspect Keough's whiskers closely in daylight at earliest opportunity. Twenty-four: Buy scme sedative tablets in case of emergencies. Eddie nudged her and pointed. She looked down at the lights of a city. “Albany,” he said. People, she reflected, were always interrupting you when you were try- ing to work. . . . Charlie sat up in bed abruptly. He always woke quickly—into complete consciousness. The faculty had often served him in good stead. Once when his sleeping attention caught the sound of a deluge pouring down a distant wash in the Gobi Desert and he had abandoned his tent only in time to save his life. Again in Burma when the soft sound of a tiger's foot had caused him to snatch his rifle soon enough by a tenth of a second. And again, for example, when a Kanaka, crouching in his pitch dark bed room with an 18-inch knife had been so injudicious as to sniffie. As he woke he knew that somebody had knocked very lightly on the living room door of the bridal suite of the |at Selborn, England, went on strike. *Theres SOMETHING aboul lhem youll like © HERBERT ON ALL PRIMROSE HOUSE BEAUTY PREPARATIONS ‘WE OFFER YOU this rare opportunity to buy the famous PRIMROSE HOUSE preparations at ONE-FIFTH less than you usually pay.’Sale, seven days only. Every item is included, from Chiffon Powder to their lovely kits and boxes. Don't miss this great saving on your favorite preparations. Chiffon Cleansing Cream Dry Skin Mixture. Nourishing Cream ... Skin Freshener _ Chiffon Face Powde 9 Motor Bag Travel Case _ 2-Tone Gold Finish Compact. MISS MARGARET LANE Beauty Consultant from Primrose House Will be in the department to help you choose the correct preparations for your own skin care and beauty make-up. (Main Floor, Toiletries Department, The Hecht Co.) THE HECHT CO. F St. at Seventh from trying to interfere with the great Jove that has come into Irene's ,‘u TAREYTON THE EVENING STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C., FRIDAY, OCTOBER 8, 1937. Prince James Hotel. - This time he did not rush from his tent, snatch a rifle, or catch & long knife on a bolster. He merely put on his slippers and dressing gown and went to the door. Outside stood Margit. She was wearing evening clothes. Mrs. Bly was not with her--inasmuch as Mrs. Bly had refused “to participate in any such high-binding outrage.” Margit had expected Charlie would come to the door. She had expected him to step back, falter, fumble, col- lapse, apologize or maybe even break down and weep. He didn’t. He said, “Hello, Margit old girl!” He glanced at his watch. “How was the air tonight? Rough?” She stared. This sort of composure was inhuman. Only lunatics had it. He had even guessed that she had flown. It was a cheap trick, but it disarranged her mind enough so that she answered, “It was quite rough.” Charlie shook his head. “You're doing this very badly, Margit! You should have said immediately, ‘Where is Irene?" " Margit stepped across the threshold. She looked around the room. “Is that her door?” Charlie nodded. He was lighting a cigarette. Margit hammered and raised her voice. “Irene! It's I! Margit!" There was & sound of furniture be- ing moved. Then of a key turning. Then the knob. But the door refused Irene’s effort. Charlie walked up to Margit. He took a key from his dressing gown pocket. “I locked it | on my side, too,” he said. “You what?” “I was afraid she might have had bad dreams or get scared by a howling bull frog—and I didn't want to have a good night's rest inter- rupted.” At last Margit has confronted the | villain, but what an anti-climax! The | doors are locked, there has been mno | dastardly betrayal. See tomorrow's episode, wherein Margit spars off for the next round. (To be continued.) PLAYWRIGHT DIES A. J. Blethen, Former Publisher, Was 67. RENO, Nev., ‘October 8 (#).—Alden Joseph Blethen, 67, of San Francisco, one-time president of the Seattle | Times Co. and a widely known play- | wright and magazine writer, died un- | expectedly of a heart ailment yester- day at a Reno hotel. With Mrs. Blethen, he was en route to Maine on a vacation. A native of | Farmington, Me., he was the son of the late Alden Blethen, sr. He was a brother of C. J. Blethen, present publisher of the Seattle Times. Seattle Strike Over Slow Work. Asked to work more slowly be. cause hop-drying kilns were overloaded, 500 hop pickers emp! by Lord Wolmer, M. 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