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CHINA MAIL
FRIDAY
OROTHY Jones, who kept the
walled village on a sun-kissed hill in Provence, could never cure her- self of her habit of giving nick- names to her clients.
Rather she gave them type- names.. Some were complimen-
tary; some erred on the side of being too candid; but as she as- sured herself every time she re- called a face this way, the type- names were all so private that no one could possibly be offended.
For nearly twenty years Dorothy had lived with her anti- ques and her mental album of caricatures, welcoming people who cared to climb the narrow cobbled street that wandered up from the frowning gate of the town to the pleasant square, where the pot tery-decked facade of her, shop smiled colourfully at the whis- pering fountain.
She had names for most of her. regular clients. There were the Bull-Frog,
the the Fat-Spider, Spaniel, the Forgotten Woman, Flora MacDonald, Madame le President, the Countess, La Soli- taire, and the Welsh-Witch; Dorothy loved them all, with the exception, perhaps, of the Bull- Frog, who was the kind of person one did not love.
She might have been 2 little cruel, to have, named Miss Tucker the Bull-Frog, but once you heard her voice, no other name could
Short Story
possibly fit.
one по
Miss Tucker's voice was at- tracting attention to itself the first day the Little Woman ar- rived. She stole in, as if she hop- ed
would notice her. Dorothy named her the Little Woman almost before she sat down. She was the smallest person imaginable, and typically French, neatly dressed in black, with a pink sateen blouse, and obviously artificial pearls.
But she ordered tea and toast in pure Cockney. Then noticing Dorothy's surprise, she changed to French with a ripe Provencal accent.
her The Bull-Frog focused lorgnettes on the minute figure as it' went out. She boomed:
"Wonder who she is.. she's not a bit like the kind of person who should come here. Probably made a mistake suppose she's a maid, and her mistress is at one of the big hotels."
The Little Woman became a regular customer. Dorothy was as much intrigued about her as the Bull-Frog. Among the usual afternoon assembly of tweedy women she was rather like a piece of Sevres china among a row of flower pots.
:
Dorothy made a habit of reser- ving the table by the window for her little customer. The table looked out over the wide green patch-work of valley that was dappled with cherry blossom. She often stood by the table in the mornings to watch the sun throw its earliest daffodil fingers across the most perfect view on the coast, She loved its variegated beauty; the dark speurs of the
SUPPLEMENT, MAY 19,
1939
"THE LITTLE WOMAN"
poplars, the sugar-cube houses, the silver veins of the roads.
Bull-Frog soon ferreted out the information that the Little Woman lived on the balcony floor of the best hotel în the nearby town.
"It's amazing the people who have money these days," she croaked furiously. Dorothy wait- ed. Bull-Frog's eyes narrowed. Her mouth became a long slit of disapproval.
"That woman-she
stays at the Golden Hind, and
she pays one hundred francs a day for her room. Jules, the head waiter, told me."
Dorothy felt herself blushing. She answered meekly: "Well, I suppose she can afford it.”
"Of course she can.” Bull-Frog's voice was supercharged with dis- gust. "Those women usually can. I'm sure there's something funny about her and she's alone, too. Women-nice women, don't come and stay at places like this alone. She's probably a mistress -a professional mistress.”
Quite a number of unkissed jaws dropped the afternoon the Little Woman arrived with a child.
"My little boy," she blushed prettily at Dorothy. "He's come to spend a few weeks with me.'
By Keith Ayling
Dorothy accepted the hand the child proffered in French fashion, and gasped inwardly. The boy was a miniature too, a minute re- She production of his mother. smiled back at the large dark
eyes.
"Does he speak English?” "Oh yes, he speak Engleesh, French, Italian and a little Ger- man," chimed in the mother proudly. "Hees father, he believe that children should learn as many " The languages as possible.
Dorothy's bright eyes rested on face. "You would't think I was Engleesh, would you? I speak so badly, and make so many faults DOW."
Early one morning, when Dorothy had stopped work to ad- mire her view, she heard footsteps in the shop. The Little Woman stood there,
as fragrant as 2 freshly picked flower..
hus-
"Your view-eet is so lovely," she sighed. "If only my band would come, but he cannot. He is too busy.”
She sighed again. Her face lit up in a way that created strange longings in Dorothy's rather. empty heart.
"It's so wonderful to share every- thing, this scene, these lovely › mountains. I write to my hus- band every day, and I tell him he must come, that this place is the most beautiful in the whole world, but still he say that he cannot
come.”
Dorothy en- She broke off. couraged her with an attentive smile
fins Jones" She was gazing out of the window; her voice was trembling. "Miss Jones why
ees it that the people here do not like me?-I know they don't. They say all kinds of things, wick- ed things, about me--because I am alone here with my leetle toy the big one with the loud voice especially. She is alone as well. She has always been alone here! Why is it wrong for me. and right for her?"
Dorothy turned away. She had begun to blush furiously. Why did she have to be the scape- goat for the sins of all the forgot- ten women on the Cote d'Azure? She was trying hard to appear casually absorbed in the rolling profile of the hills. Ostrich-like she thought that if she screwed up her eyes, the Little Woman might not see she was blushing. Should she lie and tell the Little Woman that she was wrong... .? mastered With difficulty she the hot lump in her throat.
"If I were you I shouldn't take any notice of them of her, at least. You see, Miss Tucker's rather lonely, and she's got to have something to talk about. She doesn't mean any harm.”
The Little Woman tossed her neat dark head defiantly. She gave an impatient stamp of her foot.
"But I do mind. It hurts me inside somewhere. I am married.
I love my husband. I am so proud of him. Miss Jones, do you think that if they saw my husband they would stop saying things? They say.. oh. ." The little voice became hot and in- tense. "They say that I am not married, that my boy has not a father-I hate it. They even ask at the hotel if I have men in my bedroom. It is hateful, and
wicked."
.
She choked for a second-then resumed.
"It hurts me, because they are people of my own country. I can't forget I was born in the Old Kent-road, you know. If I could only look on them as foreigners. I wouldn't mind."
Dorothy was horribly conscious all at once of the tremble in 1 her Voice.
"I should just show them you don't care. And I wouldn't listen to what the hotel servants say." The Lttle Woman settled her-
into an self listlessly
antique chair.
to
"I must get my husband come here. I've asked him to come quite ten times, and each time he say he cannot. I'll make him. I'll show that old vulture I die of woman! I must-or of shame."
The next day brought a. sür- prise.
•
Tea was nearly over when, a man cante in and went straight to the Little Woman's table. He kissed her affectionately on both cheeks, Afterwards he kissed the child. Dorothy thrilled to Little Woman's watch the
charming. blushes; it was too She experienced a pain in her heart; how could one woman pos- sibly acquire so much happiness. When she went over to take the order, Madame Dubois presented her husband.'
Dorothy gave her hand politely. So here was the wonderful hus-
band! He was miniature as well; an extremely little man. Further, he WAB scrubby. The dark,un- shaven face looked out over a high and not too white collar. His black coat was poorly cut, and he wore striped business trousers and brown boots.
He spoke to Dorothy in a high, squeaky voice.
"I hear that your scones are wonderful. I would like to try them. I have come especially for that. My wife said I must come to share them.”
He might be a clerk, a shop- keeper perhaps, Dorothy judged. Not a bit the kind of man who would keep his wife in a hundred franc-a-day room in a luxury hotel.
Dorothy settled in her chair by the door to watch them surrepti- tiously. Their smiling faces were close to each other over the tea cups. The tweedy cats had noticed the love scene, too. Their con- versation seemed to hush as they watched the Lilliputian couple with a gigantic love. Dorothy was thrilled.
As he paid his bill, the little man's scrubby face smiled grate- fully at Dorothy.
"Miss Jones, my wife tells me you have been very kind to her while she has been here. I would like to say thank you. Unfor- tunately I have to go away now
er. "his face was embar- rassed. “I hope you will continue your kindness."..
The Little Woman interrupted plaintively:
"Oh, Felix, couldn't you stay one night?" She turned to Dorothy. "Please, Miss Jones, make him stay-he must, but he say the affaires will not permit.”
Dorothy profoundly wanted- the Little Woman to keep on being so happy. She addressed herself to the husband.
"The evenings are charming here, Monsieur... You really should stay, if business will allow you."
A spasm of anxiety flitted over: his face. He got up rather quick-' ly. The five feet of him gave, her an apologetic little bow.
(Continued on Rage 7),
I MEAN IT! I WANT
THE BABY POWDER
THAT FIGHTS' GERMS
MENNEN
BORATED POWDER
pooling and
SAPZ13 -
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