A Bargain Sales Day Romance.

Free Lance, Volume XIX, Issue 994, 23 July 1919, Page 9

A Bargain Sales Day Romance.

(By C.Q.P.)

<For the New Zealand Fkee !Lance.) UT IFE," said the philosopher, gaz--ij ing profoundly at the butter, "is a table d'hote where the aish of your fancy is sure to be off." I agreed tremulously, resisting an impulse to say that I had heard it beGovernment," he continued, shifting his gaze to his. empty plate, "is a form of comic opera run for the people's amusement." I wondered what pearl would next fall from his lips. "Money,"' he chanted sonorously, is the curse of mankind, the cause of innumerable race meetings, and of holes m a million pockets. Never carry any. "Once," he went on dreamily, -L was rich. I had £100 a year. That was long ago. I am used to having money. I am even consistently cheerful under the affliction. I could never do as that girl did." - ' "What girl?" I queried becoming suddenly interested for, in spite of the fact that my friends assert that I am a woman-hater, I am still old enough to have some interest in silk stockings. ' He faced me wearily and I knew he had something to reveal. One is.always tired of the truth. • j «i-+ ''Didn't I tell you?" he queried, it was. like this" : I settled myself in my seat and ieeolved to endure. T "One day last month when 1 was even more bored than usual," he> becan. "I was Lambton Quay, yes, outside s and trying to speculate how many of the women entering the shop intended buying anything. The irrational always attracts me and all women represent the irrational—at least all well-dressed women do. It was then that I saw her "I immediately set her down as one of the wouldn't-buys. She had such a determined air. But my interest was immediately aroused. To say that she -was charming is to under-rate her. bhe was ravishing, alluring, divine! He flicked a crumb of bread across the table. £ "She stood not ten yards away from me and I suddenly transferred my interest from her personality to her actionß. She dropped her parasol. Or was it a glove? I really can't remem"ber " i" said nothing. My friend's bad memory dates from his appearance m a •divorce suit. "Yes; she dropped her glove—or her parasol-and a passing officer recovered it and restored it to her. She thanked him most charmingly and passed on. She proceeded another ten yards and dropped it—her glove or her parasol —again. A middle-aged man retrieved it tor her and received another of her gracious smiles. Then I began to follow her swiftly. I determined to be close up on the next dropping of the parasol. It was at the corner that it happened. A gawky youth and I made a dive for it simultaneously. I won, the gawky youth sat down in the gutter. " 'Thank you so much.' " she said with a slight, ever so slight, lisp. Nothing, I think, can equal euch a lisp. "I bowed. Then I noticed that she was scrutinising my hands. She gave a little cry of surprise. "'What extraordinary fingers!' she exclaimed.

"I thought I might risk an inconsequent remark upon the weather, that topic which has led to half the misery of mankind. But my effort floated by. My hands seemed to exercise some fascination for her. I made a desperate effort to revive the conversation. In half a minute I rambled over a dozen topics. War, dress, prohibition, and the cost of living. But she wasn't listening. " 'Come with me,*, she said suddenly, and before I quite realised what had happened we were in a taxi and rolling swiftly southward. Just where we went I don't know except that 1 didn't recollect ever having seen the

streets before. During the run I found that she was an orphan, that she lived alone, was musical, rolled her 'r's' in the most delightful way and had no ideas on politics. All of which made a rare combination. And her hobby or profession, which I did not'know, was palmistry. Or, as she put it, she studied hands. And so she had pounced upon me as a rare- specimen. I felt disappointed. I had hoped my young moustache or my negligent appearance had met with recognition at last. But my digits —unspeakable! 'The car purred up ii rise and pulled up before a house that was not different, from other houses. You may rent them by the hundred. I felt a sidden panic when 1 realised that I should have to pay the chauffeur, and thought of my empty pockets. However, she settled the matter by interrupting me when I attempted to bribe him with a scarfpin, and paid him herself. "We went straight into the house which was tastefully if somewhat massively furnished and she pushed me into the front room and closed the door. I could hear her outside speaking impatiently to someone and then a deep harsh masculine voice answering her. Then she came hack. ." 'I won't be long,' she said, but you must excuse me for a moment. Won't you amuse yourself at the piano while waiting?' . "She indicated a grand which stood in the corner. " 'You will find music to your taste I think,' she said as she went out, and then I heard her feet lightly pattering on the stairs. ■ "I yielded to the inevitable and plunged into the glooms of some Russians whose names I could never pronounce. They fitted'my mood exactly, I played Massenet and poured myselt out in the 'Valse Triste,' then Dvorak and Greig's 'Peer Gynt,' and finally Meyerbeer. Once I thought I heard the front door softly close and the coughing and strong speed-song of a motor which Avhizzed away from the drive. But I resolutely continued until someone raced up the path and beat a violent tattoo on the door. Someone hurried to open it and I could hear rough tones, in altercation. " 'Gorn!' said one of them, 'blmkm' rot!' She's been 'ere f'r 'arf'n har!' " 'I tell you I seen 'er!' yelled someone else, 'in a taxi—goin' like smoke.' " 'Garn, yer day-dreamin' exploded the man inside.- 'Play in' the pianner, f'r 'arf-an har, she's bin! Come 'ere?' His hand rattled on the knob of the front room door. 'Cm an' see 'er yerself.' . "The door swung open and m they came to find me sitting foolishly, at the piano. The. first man emitted a war-whoop and charged out and up the stairs where I heard him stamping about. I was too astonished to do more than stare. " 'Gorn!' he yelled down to his companion, 'Gorn, with 'arf-'n-har's clear start! and taken 'er jewellery with 'er!'" . My' friend ceased and regarded the butter sorrowfully. "Who were the men?" I asked with that passaon common to all of us of being assured of what we already know. He silently took a card from his wallet and handed it to me. It was Dethumbed and greasy and read:

ItUDDER AND BOSS, Commercial Agents. "Bailiffs!" I ejaculated. The philosopher sighed. "Of course she would be able to tell that I played the piano from my hands," he said. We sat in meditation for some minutes. "It must have been a glove," he said suddenly, "that day was rather showery—yes it must have been a glove." I rose and softly went away.