Our Mr. Wrenn The Romantic Adventures of a Gentle Man

his night of fear and tragic portents he resented the general flowered-paper-napkin aspect of Mrs. Cattermole's establishment. "Hungh!" he grunted, as he jabbed at the fringed doily under th

s and radishes and cathedrals and little duc

ere he was daintily, yes, daintily, studied by the tea-room habitues-two bouncing and talkative daughters of an American tourist, a slender pale-haired English girl student of Assyriology with large top-bar

ng of comradeship with the other patrons as he turned, with the rest, to st

s followed the young woman about his table to a table oppos

the material of the dress, was so high that it touched her delicate jaw, and it was set off only by a fine silver chain, with a La Valliere of silver and carved Burmese jade. Her red hair, red as a poinsettia, parted and drawn severely back, made a sweep about the fair dead-white

ew patron of M

voice, then languidly considered her toast and marmalade. Once she glanced about the room. Her heavy brows were drawn close for a second, makin

the heavy bread-and-butter knife as though it were a fine-point pen. Long hands, colored like ivory

y life." Instead of such smoothly rounded nails as Theresa Zapp displayed, the new young lady

aring to be able to drop his eyes. She studied him all out, with almost as much inter

l than enveloped Mr. Wrenn as the new young lady glanced away from him, paid her check, rose slithily from her table, and departed. She rou

o her waist; he had had an impression of remarkably smooth waist curves and an unjagged sweep of back. Now he saw that

one now that the girl was a freak, for, charitable though Our Mr. Wrenn was, he had to admit that there was no sign of the midback ri

s! Reg'lar gunny-sacking. She's skinny, too. Bright-red hair. She

ut of court. But he remembered her scissors glance

pected the quiet Bloomsbury Street, with a cat's-meat-man stolidly clopping along the pavement, as loneliness rushed on hi

ugh it presumably came from an English colony, was the friendliest thing he had seen for a week. It did yawn, but it let him talk to it for a long while. He stood befor

fear of the tiger's sleek murderous power. But he was somewhat afraid of

stood before the cage. Mr. Wrenn slunk away, robbed of his new friend, the

eeping himself from the one definite thing he wanted to do-the thing he keenly imagined a happy Mr. Wrenn doing-dashi

e freak lady of Mrs. Cattermole's Tea House-the corsetless young woman of the tight-

m the uninterested way in which she snipped the door to, made up a whole novel about her. Gee! She was a French countess,

g out, scanning the street uncaringly. Why-her windows were next to his!

by the window, he was comforted as he heard her move about her room. He had a friend. He had started that great work of making friends-w

smear of flat dull slate? Yet another breakfast, and the lady of mystery came. Before he knew he was doing it he

d remembering that, of course, she was just a "fool freak Englishwoman-prob'ly a bloomin' stoodent" he scorned, and so settle

gled loose at the opening of the burnoose. Her radiant hair, tangled over her forehead, shone with a thousand various gleams from the gas-light over her head as she moved back against the wall and stood waiting for him to pass. She smiled very doubtfully, distantly-the smile,

self for the lack of dignity in "thinking of that freak, when she wouldn't ev

Wrenn heard slight active sounds from he

he Zoo tiger. Mr. Wrenn heard himself saying to the girl, "Please, miss, do you mind telling me-I'm an Amer

rything's rather rotten this season, I fancy." Her voice r

ou are Eng

es

y-u

es

fool idea maybe yo

. I'm not reahlly Engl

y-u

I was French? Tell

lmost make-b'lieve-how you had a castl

oot, while her voice fluttered, low and beautifully controlled, thr

he spoke she cupped her chin with the palm o

ch more. You we

e.' Please, sir, mayn'

r heads and said `Gee! we dunno what it is,' and so you sneaked down to the treasure-chamber-you see, your dad-your father, I should say-he was a c

my footsteps rang on the hollow flagstones? And

es! Tha

did I s

ng to that," h

, I'm awful sorr

come over here and study medicine

gravity, "mayn't I let him die, and not find ou

expect to tell you all this make-b'lieve....

I'm sorry to say I'm not reahlly"-her two "reallys" were quite different-"a countess, you know. Tell m

ss I don't qu

editor or a girl who's been in Holloway Jail or Canongate for suffr

not; I'm just

hem about my pure white soul. But you, you know, made stories about me.... I was saying: If you could only know how I loathe and hate and d

se in a fl

p to the j

you wi

nd economics as we do?' Th

ies, shrugged her shoulders elaborately, rose from the rail,

temple-pulses be

sensitive vivid fa

see me-to make

. At Mrs. C

ight-seeing? Or is it blessedly possib

hunted uneasily f

d a stunt-coming ove

ood. Much

raying pains to avoid detection, he studied her

thing about London.

can't get acq

a. I never saw England till two years ago, on my way to Paris. I'm an art student.... That'

October tang of

do you know about th

ntly we're now acquainted.... Unless

nice-I was just about nutty, I was so lonely," all in a burst. He finished,

s a man, for all her modulating woman's voice. "Yo

ss we got rooms n

ntic!" sh

k for-I used to work for the Souvenir

ash-trays with `Love from the Erie

pug-dogs wit

ck! Pale sympathetic blue

k.... Say, gee, I ain't

s changed since-Oh yes, of course; you've su

mean to-When you been

sh demanded, savagely. "Hav

mumbled, apo

ied with the architecture of the opposite side of

you was English. You

you've ever heard o

-teacher. I think h

rd Col

ow him?" She dropped int

him at

Mittyford was a cultural climber, if you know what I mean; rather-oh, how shall I express i

lowed Mr

ss Istra Nash he sacrificed Dr. Mittyford, scholarsh

funny. Gee! I didn'

bland as though she had meant that all along, which left Mr.

he steps, flung at him "G' nigh

Wrenn muttered: "Ain't she a wonder! Gee

bout in bed: "I wonder if I was too fresh

se: "Well, what do I care if I am smoking too much? And I'll be as fresh as I want to." He threw a newspaper at the censorious suit-case and, much relieved, went to bed to dream that he was

his chair, his hands clutching the wooden seat, his finger-tips rubbing nervously back and forth over the rough under-surface of the wood. He wanted to help her-the w

g about. He rushed downsta

e him there. But all his plan of proffering assistance vanished as he saw her impatient eyes and her splend

mmediately, unhesitatingly, and

stare haughtily at him. However, he did go up to the rail and sit, shyly kicking his feet, beside her, and she did not stare h

ve you really have an imagination, even though you are

ye

nn didn't know h

n the play, y' know. Most of it was gorgeously rotten. It used to be a French farce, but they sent it to Sunday-school and gave it a nice fresh frock. It seemed that a gentleman-tabby had been trying to make a match between his nephew and his ward. The ward

That

, I'm very sorry to have to tell you, death wasn't decent enough to do on the stage. If the pl

inly. He knew that she had made jokes for hi

er, he was rather goo

en a funny play,"

wise and confided, "Wi

yes,

been m

. His "No" sounded as thoug

is superior quizzical woman who tapped her fingers careles

like. Don't you ever collect people? I do-chloroform 'em quite cruelly and pin their

-y

ou play w

nt bookkeeper for the Souvenir Company. "He had wanted to, and immedia

don't go to parties or read much-what do they

-" sa

st what did she mean by "types"? Had it something to do with printing

d folks and things and-oh, you know; go to moving pictu

t y

little. Shakespeare and geography a

e Nietzsche?" she gr

?

u know-the Ger

et me see no

wrote the great musical comedy of the century.

hat Rabin at the Souvenir Company-he's a German Jew, I guess-learnt me.... But, say, isn't Kipling great! Gee! when I read Kim I can imagine

. Y

read an a

Annunzio and some T

That last was a

" discon

plays do you go

easily, then bitterly wished he h

uestions, do you? I'm interested in people.... And now I must go up and write a letter. I was going over to Olympia's-she's one of the Interesting Pe

he exploded. Then, m

d to.... Have you seen

ver. Ha

a gloomy thing to see all alone. Is tha

l I? I've been taken in hand by so many people-it wou

ase

my dear' again.) The Tower is the sort of thing school superintendents see and then go back and lecture on in school as

But she beat it so quick.... Them lips of hers-I never knew there was such red lips. And an artist-paints pictures!... Read a lot-

nose in a mirror, powdered, and sat

nomenon-little man of 35 or 40 with embryonic imagination & a virgin soul. I'll

d in the darkness, & yours wasn't there. My dear, my dear, how desolate-Oh you understand it only too well wi

Pere Dureon said at the atelier, "You haf a' onderstanding of

who Sees People at a magazine, he vouchsafed that they "didn't use any Outsiders." Outsiders! And his hair was nearly as re

ing sentimental? You'

& grin at your poor u

.