Constance Dunlap by Arthur B. Reeve


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Page 60

Now and then she could see Stella eyeing her covertly. The little
actress had had, like many another, a few dollars to invest or
rather with which to speculate. Her method had been usually to make
a quick profit on a tip from some Wall Street friend. Often, if the
tip went wrong, the friend would return the money to the
unsuspecting little girl, with some muttered apology about having
been unable to get it placed in time, and then, as the market went
down or up, seeing that it was too late, adding a congratulation
that at least the principal was saved if there was no profit.

The little actress was plainly piqued. She saw, though she did not
understand, that Constance was a different kind of plunger from what
she had thought at first up at Charmant's. Instead of trying to
compete with Constance in her field, she redoubled her efforts in
her own. Was Warrington, a live spender, to slip through her grasp
for a chance acquaintance?

Another dance. This time it was Stella and Warrington. Braden, who
had served excellently as a foil to lead Warrington on when he had
eyes for no one else, not even Vera, was left severely alone.
Nothing was said, not an action done openly, but Constance, woman-
like, could feel the contest in the air. And she felt just a little
quiver when they sat down and Warrington resumed the conversation
with her where he had left it. Even the daring cut of Stella's gown
and the exaggerated proximity of her dainty person had failed this
time.

As they chatted gaily, Constance enjoyed her triumph to the full.
Yes, she could see that Stella was violently jealous. But she
intended that she should be. That was now a part of her plan as it
shaped itself in her mind, since she had plunged or, perhaps better,
had been dragged into the game.

As the evening wore on and the dancing became more furious,
Warrington seemed to catch the spirit of recklessness that was in
the very air. He talked more recklessly, once in a while with a
bitterness not aimed at any one in particular, which passed among
the others as blase sarcasm of one who had seen much and to whom
even the fastest was slow.

But to Constance, as she tried to fathom him, it presented an
entirely different interpretation. For example, she asked herself,
why had he been so ready, apparently, to transfer his interest from
Stella? Was it because, having cut loose from the one feminine tie
that morally bound him, he no longer felt any restraint in cutting
loose from others? Was it the same spirit that had carried him on in
the money game, having cut loose from one financial principle, to
let all go and to guide his course as close to the edge of things as
he dared? There had been the same reckless bravado in the way he had
urged on the driver of his car in the wild ride of the earlier
evening, violating the speed laws yet succeeding in escaping the
traffic squad.

Warrington was a plunger. Yet there was something about him that was
different from others she had seen. Perhaps it was that he had a
conscience, even though he had succeeded in detaching himself from
it.

And Stella. There was something different about her, too. Constance
more than once was on the point of revising her estimate of the
little actress. Was she, after all, wholly mercenary in her attitude
toward Warrington? Was he merely a live spender whom she could not
afford to lose? Or was she merely a beautiful, delicate creature
caught in the merciless maelstrom of the life into which she had
been thrown? Did she realize the perilous position this all was
placing her in?

They were among the last to leave and Vera and Braden offered to
take Constance to her apartment in Braden's car, while Stella
contrived prettily to take so much of Warrington's time with the
wraps that by the time they were ready to go the manner of the
breaking up of the party was as she wanted it. In her final triumph
she could not help just an extra inflection on, "I hope I'll see you
again at Vera's soon, my dear."

All night, or at least all that was left of it, Constance tried to
straighten out the whirl of her thoughts. With the morning she had
an idea. Now, in a moment when the exhilaration of the gay life was
at low ebb, she must see Stella.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Tue 14th Apr 2026, 1:39