The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-10-26
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By Ann LAs,e.

Fort Startling. where Neal was train ing could easily be so twisted.
 I'd better keep my hands off his sisters affairs until I'd pove my self sapaDlg pa b.9 of hand1ng hag my my own affairs? L Less than six months married. I was already shut out from the citadel of my hus- bands heart--his "par' now, instead true that the first wild love. the longing that had swayed me, the desire to be in Jim's arms that had once been stronger strong than 5 anything ny ara{ vividness of color and it's inn | mensity of feeling
 But that didn't mean that I'd l stopped caring. Jim wasn't the him - but he was still my man. | However he failed me, however he | humiliated me or disappointed me, Jim was my man. He had my heart and my faith and my first loyalty along with my first dreams. I hadn't taken them away. He had just handed them back to me very politely, saying as he did so: let you go yours. We'll cut out bit of the lovey-dovey stuff and act like good pals.'
 Inero was no SeLt1nS away rom it - I wasn't ready for this. I felt humtliated, lonely, lost = repudiated. Not a wife any longer.
 got through the first long hours of the morning morning somehow But answer it's summons with joy and relief at any break in the black linked chain of my dreariness. rich ini every note-"This is Carlotta Sturges. I've just had note from Iootie' telling me to report at the canteen with our unit tomorrow morning at nine, I don't need you to explain, I can read between the don't make me say it all over the phone. Won't you meet me at the Clinsarge for lunch? I want to see you.''
 "Fd love to-but I don't believe can"-I began.
 "Oh, please, please! If you've an- other engagement, won't you post pone it I must see you. You've fail me now. Won't you come?
 There was a not of pleading in that warm, luscious voice of hers a note that brooked no denial.
 "T1l come" I said, and we bade each other goodbye and clicked up our receivers after arranging to meet at the Clinsarge at one.
 So an hour later I found myself
  little chintz-hung restaurant where I'd met Pat Dalton for tea fort night before.
 Have you ever been here be- writing when I arrived and who swept me promptly to a little window table she had evidently re- served.
 "Only once,'' replied. "But I like it-I must come more often." -FWho brought you - not Virginia Da1ton-your sister-in-law asked the girl with an eager abruptness she didn't seem to recognize as rude.
 '.No," I said quietly, calculating my effect, because I felt the need of knowing : the reason S for her eager
 Carlotta's high co1ored face went pale.
 Pat" she said-"Pat. ~ Shall we order? A cold egg first and souffle potatoes and artfchoke hol- landalse. Does that please you?"
 That sounds delicious.'' I agreed. 'I don't know much about the cuisine here. Pat and I came to tea.''
 I surmised it was cruel to drag Pat Dalton's name back into the conversation, but I felt that for the happiness of Virginia and Pat and perhaps even of this too vivid, too alive, too generous girl had best be cruel and gain the knowl- edge that might some day help them all.
 What a good sort you are, Mrs. Harrison, to get me back into our lieutenants good graces! Why, I shouldn't be surprised if you were to get good old Pat back into the arms-of his-melted iceberg" mur- mured Carlotta, looking at me earchingly.
 Then I realized that I was deal ing with a clever girl-a girl as anxious to get information from me as I was to Interview her.