The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-12-11

was in another taxi with Dick West Jim gone to see Evvy safely inside her house. For the moment Tom and I were utterly alone. He seized my hand and carried it to his lips, and as they burned against my palm the old distrust revived.
 "I'M never wear that blue robe. Won't you take it back 9 I begged.
 "Tll never take it back. So won't you wear it?' he asked.
 There was serious note under all his Iightness of tone. was sorry Nor myself sitting there ignored by my Jim, while he bade> good night to Evvy.
 Suddenly, was also a little sorry flor Tom Mason.
 CHAPTER CKLI.
 Don't you see that can't wear that robe?' I asked suddenly, with a feeling that if only I could appeal to the kindness and consideration I had felt all through that humiliating evening of Jim's absorption in Evvy ter all.
 Cant Can't? Won't, you mean because after all my longing to be a | real friend to you you still distrust me-diSlike me, I sometimes fear" Tom laughed shortly, a curt, hurt mirthless laugh. And I was even little more eorry for him than ] had been the moment before, and conscious, too, in a corner of my brain, that Jim was taking an unac- countably long time to say good night to Evvy.
 'I haven't trusted you,'' said honestly. "And besides I neve, could see why a married woman riage is-perfect. But here in this big city friendships with men seen taken for granted, almost forced or women by society, and even by theil friendship may be broadening and fine and honest and loyal, too, an6 i never take anything or want to take anything that belongs-to~ love-" "You dear. solemn little preacher | lady" said Tom, in a low, vibrating voice. tThere isn't another girl 1T all the world like you! I want youl Friendship I want it. Can't hay! | eff you were always like tonight, | began half doubtfully, and ther Jim came across the sidewalk.
 He was whistling and whirling hi: | cane jauntily and his limp seemed | jaunty, too. He spoke as if he were explaining l She's a nice kid. Sos Phoebe. The, | hit it off remarkably. It was a pret | ty good party, wasn't it, Tommy?' ''It was" echoed Tom.
 Ut wasn't!' beat its way to tn edge of my lips, and I had to bit them hard to force back my exclam | ation.
 Shall we drop you at homer" ask ed Jim.
 Please" replied Tom, and so W whirled across to his street, bade hin good night and then rolled on agail in little stream of unimportant con versation about the musical comed md it's star and what a wonderful Lobster Thermidor Pierre, of the Wal grave, prepares,
 I didn't trust myself to say a ser
 ious word. I might have burst ou
 with plea that Jim be a little nor circumspect in his treatment of Evv when I had intended pleading wit Jim to tell me a little more abol
 his new firm. , You're as quiet as no mouse evs was. Mooning about Betty again
 Jim demanded. . a-ss.-s. ---
 Then I realized that he hadn't eve
 asked about our discovery of Betty whereabouts.
 That marked a milestone in o,
 marriage. Jim is, Jim always will my man. But a change has come in the meaning of these words. He my man to love, to cater to, to shal my days and my life with. But Il, my thoughts. not my experiences.
 can't tell those to Jim when he