A complex built for two!
A complex built for two was the ambition of most of Ann's correspondents; but mainly her letters exhibited the seamy side of Love's purple mantle. You see, when lovers are perfectly happy, they don't write to the papers about it. And when she pondered gravely over “Brokenhearted's” letter saying that she has just learned that a perfectly splendid fellow she is so infatuated with has a wife and three children in Detroit; or over “Puzzled's” inquiry as to whether she is “a bum sport” because she wouldn't let the dark young man kiss her good-night, she sometimes said to herself that Napoleon was right. Napoleon, you remember, remarked that Love causes more unhappiness than anything else in the world. And then she would turn to her typewriter, and put under “Puzzled's” inquiry:
No, “Puzzled,” do not let him kiss you unless you are betrothed. If any one is a “bum sport” it is he for wanting to do so. If he “always kisses the girls good-night when he has had a good time,” he is not your sort. A man that does not respect a girl before marriage will certainly not respect her afterward.
After she had typed these replies she always hastily took the paper out of her typewriter and tucked it away in her desk. She did not like the idea of Mr. Sikes coming in and reading it over her shoulder, as he had done once. That was the time she had used the quotation “Pains of Love are sweeter far than all other pleasures are” in answering “Desolate.” The managing editor had repeated the verse in a way that both angered and alarmed her.
This particular morning, among the other letters was one that interested her both by the straightforward simplicity of its statement and by the clear, vigorous handwriting on sensible plain notepaper. It ran thus:
Dear Cynthia:
I am a young business man, very much in love, and I need your help. I have fallen in love with a girl who does not know me. I do not even know her name but I know her by sight, and I know where she works. She looks like the only one for me, but I don't want to do anything disrespectful. Would it be a mistake for me to call at her office and try to get a chance to meet her? Do you think she would be offended? She looks very adorable. Please tell me honestly what you think.
Respectfully yours,
Sincerity.
Wearied by the maunderings of many idiotic flappers and baby vamps, this appeal attracted her. She put it into the column for the following day, writing underneath it: