Judge — October 3, 1914 — page 11: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

USETTE and Madame Zucker were still friends, though Madame Zucker had married an enterprising young mer- chant and was relieved of her former cares. For Musette and Madame Zucker once were employes together in the shop of a great perfumer in the Rue Rivoli. Indeed, notwithstanding their present difference in station, Madame Zucker still called Musette by her name, instead of greeting her coldly as ‘‘mademoiselle,’’ and in turn was always greeted as Mignon by her former companion, with no thought of offense. “And how are you to-day, my dear?’’ asked Madame Zucker, who entered the old shop in idleness, anxious to pass half an hour in gossip about mutual friends who were out of sight and who could not possibly be injured by any confidences bestowed upon each other by two who knew them so well. “*As you see, I am still unmarried. Perhaps I shall remain in this state until I fade beyond the possibility of an estab- lishment."* “Ah, it will not be so! You are too attractive. I shall predict a brilliant match for you yet. And I shall hope you will do even better than I have done.’’ “My dear Mignon! Are you then unhappy? Your words seem significant." And Musette looked anxiously at Madame Zucker. “You mistake me, my dear. I am well enough satisfied. I meant that a grand marriage is your due. You are so affec- tionate, and yet so attractive also.’ And then they gossiped, as they always did, and were happy, Madame Zucker turning to inspect this or that new article or Detected By J. A, WALDRON device to enhance feminine attraction or sativfy vanity, while Musette attended to the occasional purchaser who favored her counter, “I know you love delicate odors, my = dear,’’ said Musette, coming again to "chat, ‘and here is one you should have. Nothing is too good for you, and this is quite unique." Mu- sette took from the case an atomizer. ‘‘This is our latest and our richest perfume. Monsieur, our chemist, has long been at work upon it.’” “And the price “Ah! It is quite extravagant, | admit. Yet you should enjoy it. Why not? You are worthy of anything, and fortu- nately are able to pay for anything within reason. This is one hundred francs an ounce, my dear.’’ “But that is more thar I am used to paying, Musette, as you know."” “Yet think, my dear. This is new. It is delicate. It is entrancing."’ “*You still are clever, I see, in selling. I love an odor that is really unique. This, you say, has not yet been generally disclosed?"’ “The first was yesterday sold to Mademoiselle Jolie, the famous danseuse. Come. Let me perfume your handkerchef.’’ And Musette projected a tiny spray as Madame Zucker held out a dainty bit of linen. Madame Zucker, as she inhaled the perfume, lost her smile. “Ah!’? said she. ‘‘Mademoiselle Jolie! 1 thought the odor was freshly reminiscent. Send me five ounces and thé bill to my husband.’’ comicbooks.com