The Milwaukee Leader

Wanted-Love. The Story of an Unemployed Girl

Continued From Saturday, CHAPTER 48

"Something different," said the young man with the amused gray eyes.

Lillian didn't look up from her compact. It was very important to her just then that her nose was not shining and that her hat was at just the right angle.

Long tweed legs were planted on the rug in front of the fire. Long, muscular fingers opened a cigaret case and flipped a cigaret between delicately curved lips.

"What is different?" Lillian asked, tucking away the compact.

"Ah-just that," he made a sweeping sort of movement with his arm, indicating Lillian and her chair.

"Portrait of a girl being poised with a hole in her stocking Strange as that may seem."

"Not strange at all-to me," said Lillian, smiling.

"No?"

"And it doesn't seem, either. It's a fact-that hole."

"So!" white even teeth flashed and his nails beat a syncopated tat-tat-tat on his cigaret case.

His eyes were bright from recent sleep. And his brown hair-she was glad it wasn't long or inclined to tousle in a curly mop-had marks of comb teeth. It glistened with water, as if he had held it under a cold shower not less than 10 minutes ago.

"Strange that you seem so calm, I mean."

She wanted to say: "If you only knew !" But she was reminding her self that there was unmistakable approval of her in the laughing gray eves and that her heart was skipping beats right along.

"Will you smoke?" he passed his case.

"No I won't. thanks."

"Won't or don't?"

"Either way."

Meaningless words. Their eyes said so much more. With swift glances. Bright, clear glances they were. "I like you," they said. "I want to know you even better, al though I know you already." .

"Bother with silly preliminaries!" . "Must we talk!"

Lillian had risen. She reached for her coat.

"Won't you sit down?" he motioned toward a chair. "Here?"

"I was just about to leave

"Oh," he said, "don't hurry. Don't mind my barging in on you. You're a friend of mother's, I guess? Or, perhaps, Drake's?"

"Yes uncertainly. But her smile told him she didn't mind.

"Poor ole Drake. Mater's got her on the carpet. Mater's on the war path today. Takes it out on Drake or me."

Lillian's eyes told him she sort of understood-and symnathized.

"I'm dashing off before she gets a chance at me." He took a few puffs from his cigaret and threw it into the fire.

"Are you going uptown? Can't I drop you somewhere?"

"I'm-er-to see Drake," replied Lillian, gathering that Drake was his mother's secretary.

"Yes, I know-but I'll wait for you-

"You won't make your get-away.

"I mean-out in the car. I'll be right around the corner in a yellow car. Roadster, not a cab."