ess fascinated Eugene so much that he gave,
until Suzanne appeared, much more time than he really should have to the
development of the scheme. As in the days when he first went with
Summerfield, he worked of nights on exterior and interior layouts, as he
called them--facades, ground arrangements, island improvements, and so
on. He went frequently with Winfield and his architect in his auto to
see how Blue Sea was getting on and to visit monied men, who might be
interested. He drew up plans for ads and booklets, making romantic
sketches and originating catch lines.
In the next place, after Suzanne appeared, he began to pay attention
almost exclusively in his thoughts to her. He could not get her out of
his head night or day. She haunted his thoughts in the office, at home,
and in his dreams. He began actually to burn with a strange fever, which
gave him no rest. When would he see her again? When would he see her
again? When would he see her again? He could see her only as he danced
with her at the boat club, as he sat with her in the swing at Daleview.
It was a wild, aching desire which gave him no peace any more than any
other fever of the brain ever does.
Once, not long after he and she had danced at the boat club together,
she came with her mother to see how Angela was, and Eugene had a chance
to say a few words to her in the studio, for they came after five in the
afternoon when he was at home. Suzanne gazed at him wide-eyed, scarcely
knowing what to think, though she was fascinated. He asked her eagerly
where she had been, where she was going to be.
"Why," she said gracefully, her pretty lips parted, "we're going to
Bentwood Hadley's tomorrow. We'll be there for a week, I fancy. Maybe
longer."
"Have you thought of me much, Suzanne?"
"Yes, yes! But you mustn't, Mr. Witla. No, no. I don't know what to
think."
"If I came to Bentwood Hadleys, would you be glad?"
"Oh, yes," she said hesitatingly, "but you mustn't come."
Eugene was there that week-end. It wasn't difficult to manage.
"I'm awfully tired," he wrote to Mrs. Hadley. "Why don't you invite me
out?"
"Come!" came a telegram, and he went.
On this occasion, he was more fortunate than ever. Suzanne was there,
out riding when he came, but, as he learned from Mrs. Hadley, there was
a dance on at a neighboring country club. Suzanne with a number of
others was going. Mrs. Dale decided to go, and invited Eugene. He seized
the offer, for he knew h
|