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Newspaper Page Text
By Barry Tibbetts
(Copyright by W. G. Chapman.)
"Well, it's surely-good to be back
on Broadway again!" exclaimed Jim
my Lawlor, as he awakened in his
apartment the morning after his 're
turn from the two weeks vacation
which he had allowed himself.
The room was filled with the gold
en sunlight of September. Lawlor
glanced around his room. It was
plainly furnished, but there were no
evidences of poverty here. Lawlor
was becoming known as an illus
trator; he had worked his way up
from the depths until he now secured
a modest income, with the hope of
increasing it materially within a few
Miss Mary Dewey, the famous
short-story writer, had half promised
to let him illustrate all her stories.
The arrangement had been sug
gested by the editor of the magazine
which had bought the exclusive right
to her work. He was to meet her
soon. He would have met her be
fore, but she had been away.
Presently, as he dressed, sober
thought began to steal through Jim
my's mind. He had been guilty of
very imprudent behavior during his
short vacation. In fact, he had gone
to the Catskills expecting to find ru
ral quiet there and he had found the
place full of young store clerks and
salesladies on their vacations.
Among the latter had been Miss
Lizzie Moore. Miss Moore was a type
of the store-girl one of those types
that Miss Dewey knew so well how to
depict. And they had fallen in love
with each other.
At first it had been only a flirta
tion on Lawlor's part, but soon the
transparent ingenuousness and sim
plicity of the girl had stolen into his
heart. Ignorant as she was, half ed
ucated, with the little slangy man
ners of speech of her class, Lawlor
Jiad realized that his love for herl
could tolerate all these things. And
she b.ad looked up to him so naively
as a great painter.
"Do you know, Mr. Lawlor, it is a
wonderful experience in my life to
have met you!" she confided one day.
"I never knew anybody like you be
fore. I've always wanted a fellow
who could think beautiful things, like
you can, instead of just being inter
ested in making money."
Lawlor smiled rather grimly at
that, but his infatuation had reached
Was This Miss Moore?
the point where he did not wince at
the words she used. Inst sad. antine-
on the impulse, he bent down and
iook miss ivioore in nis arms and
The girl lay there silent for just a
moment. Then she drew herself
away and looked at him with an
expression that Lawlor had never
seen on her face before. There was
in it something of wounded dignity .
and something of helpfulness.
"I supposejrou'r.e just flirting with.
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