He was standing in front of the drug store when the big car went
by a few minutes later, filled with people. She was driving, the
chauffeur sitting in the seat beside her. In the tonneau he observed
the two Dowd sisters, Mr. and Mrs. Pollock and Flora Grady.
As the car whizzed by, A. Lincoln Pollock espied him. Waving his
hand triumphantly, the editor called out:
"Hello, Court!"
The object of this genial shout did not respond by word or action.
He looked to see if the girl at the wheel turned her head for a
glance in his direction. She did not, and he experienced a fresh
twinge of annoyance. He muttered something under his breath. The
car disappeared around a bend as he turned to enter the store.
"That was Alix Crown, Court," remarked Charlie Webster from the
doorway. "Little too dark to get a good look at her, but wait till
she flashes across you in broad daylight some time. She'll make you
forget all those Fifth Avenue skirts so quick your head'll swim."
"Is THAT so?" retorted Courtney, allowing rancour to get the
better of fairness. Down in his heart he had said that Alix Crown
was the loveliest girl he had ever seen. "What do you know about
Fifth Avenue?"
Charlie Webster grinned amiably. He was not offended by the other's
tone.
"Well, I've seen it in the movies," he explained. "What are you
sore about?"
"Sore? I'm not sore.
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