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By Root 5379 0

’t like that Cadillac he bought last summer. The locker-room loved it. Julian walked on, through the smoking-room, through the dining alcoves, out to the dance floor, through to the foyer at the foot of the stairs. That was where you waited for your lady. Julian said hello and good evening to a great many people, and waved especially gayly to Mildred Ammermann, who was giving tonight s dinner. She was a tall, toothy girl, captain of the women s golf team. Her father was a drunken rou?quite rich in real estate, and nominally a cigar manufacturer. He never came to the club except on nights like this, when Mr. and Mrs. Ammermann would entertain a few of their her friends at a smaller table. Mildred, towering above Losch, the club steward, and pointing, daintily for her, with one finger as she held a small stack of place-cards in her left hand, apparently was one woman who had not heard about the business of the night before. It was axiomatic in Gibbsville that you could tell Mill Ammermann anything and be sure it wouldn’t be repeated; because Mill probably was thinking of the mashieniblick approach over the trees to the second green. Julian derived some courage from her smile. He always had liked Mill anyway. He was fragmentarily glad over again that Mill did not live in New York, for in New York she would have been marked Lesbian on sight. But in Gibbsville she was just a healthy girl. Good old Mill. What are you thinking? said Caroline, suddenly standing beside him. I like Mill, he said. I do too, said Caroline. Why, did she do something or say something?

No. I just like her, he said. I ve been learning how to take it.

How?

Mr. Robert Herrmann is in his best form, ribbing me about last night

Oh, Lord, where? In the locker room? Were there a lot of people there?

Yes. Whit and Froggy and the usual crowd. He told me I ought to sock out five bucks to cover Harry s subscription to the dance. And then he started kidding me about the war being over or something. How I waited till 1930 before I did my fighting, and a lot of stuff about calling out the state police.

Mm. I suppose we can expect an evening of that.

Why? Has anyone said anything to you?

No, not exactly. Kitty Holman came in the johnny while I

God, you women, going to the can together! Why do you always

Do you want to hear what she had to say? Or are you going to go into all that again?

I m sorry.

Well, Kitty, you know how she is. Comes right out with it. She said she heard Harry had a black eye, and I said yes, I knew he had. And she said Whit is worried. Did he say anything to you?

No. He didn’t get much chance, with Bobby holding forth. I didn’t wait to talk to Whit.

Well, apparently Whit knows Harry has money in the garage.

Sure he knows. It s no secret. As a matter of fact I think I told Whit myself. Yes, I did. I had to tell him, because when Whit heard about it last summer he wanted to know why I hadn t come to him, and I told him everybody came to him. Didn’t I tell you that?

No, you didn t. But anyhow, Kitty said Whit s worried, because Harry is a bad man to have as an enemy. I told you that.

I know you did. Well, we can t go on standing here like this. There s Jean and Froggy. Let s go over there.

They went over there. Jean was Caroline s best friend, and Froggy was one of the group whom Julian regarded as his best friends. He had no single best friend, had had none since college. His best friend in college was with the Standard Oil in China, and he never heard from him except about once a year. With these people Julian felt safe and at ease. Froggy, thirty-four, was not quite five years older than Julian. Froggy had lost an arm in the war, and probably because of that Julian felt less close to him than to the other men of the same age who had been in France. Julian s war record had been made in college, as a member of the S.A.T.C., and he still had the feeling that he should have enlisted to fight and not to go to college. Year by year the feeling grew less strong, and he believed he did not care any more, but he still did. He always did when he saw Froggy for the first time on any day; Froggy, who had been a beautiful swimmer and tennis player. With Jean, Julian had complete ease. Everything that they ever could have been to each other, Jean and Julian had been. They had been passionately in love all one summer long ago; a demi-vierge affair that left them, when it did leave them finally, with a feeling toward each other which was far more innocent than that of two children, and made them ready really to love someone else. Julian knew, because Jean had told him, that she had gone the limit with Froggy the very first night she had a date alone with him, and Julian honestly believed he was glad for her. Now they talked about people who were visiting the So-and-sos; whether the Reading crowd was coming up for the dance; how swell or how perfectly terrible some of the girls looked; whether Julian had had a flat tire, as they had seen his car stopped on the road to the club; wasn