The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-11-16
NEXT DOOR TO ROMANCE
 BY LESLIE BURTON BLADES

not quite certain what, and had sought in vain. Now Jerry was com posedly lighting his pipe. She watch ed him puff tiny clouds of white that vanished almost instantly into the dark nebula of space.
 Those smoke wreaths are sym bolic.'
 He watched one steal out into the darkness.
 .'Of wnat?"
 "Oh,'' she hesitated. "of the men who make them.''
 Her voice was chill, as though & film of ice, transparent yet solid, had gathered over some beautifully col ored sound. He wond ei ed at the pow CT of tone to suggest such images, then recalled her words and his lips closed firmly.
 Men? Are women less solid?"
 "so we too must try our skill at balancing the scale of sex.''
 He resented the irony edgtng her words.
 Not at all" He knocked his brier on his heal 'I forgot that you dis liked discussion. It doesn't matter, you know, whether we do or don't talk about that. Nature manipulates the scale.''
 His arms rose and extended in an abandoned yawn.
 d l better turn in soon.''
 Don't delay on my account"
 The sharpness of her enuncia ton brought him to a sitting posture, star ing at her amazedly.
 'sEidth, what has happened2 haven't hurt you?''
 Her laugh was genuine, though mirth1ess.
 Indeed no, dear boy. How could you?'
 She, too. changed to sitting posture now; her face, half in the shadow, was almost fafry1ike, framed by her black hair. Over them both the open fire shed its light, half darkness where the night closed in as though to yield 8 minimum of space to this nan-made glow.
 your voice, Edith.''
 'tNo, you haven't hurt ma If sound different 1t is because I am bored, perhaps"
 He felt his face jingle. The peace that he had acquired became a back ground against which confusing emo- tions clashed.
 'T'm sorry. beg your pardon" He rose abruptly.
 You needn't
 In her eyes he read 8 hostility stronger than the occasion warranted.
 Are we to end our week this way, Edith?"
 Ut seems so, and most appropriate ly."
 'But it isn't appropriate at all"
 why not? An accident intro duced US. You have fed me. I have amused you. Isn't the week suffi- ciently summed up?'
 She gave her head a petulant toss and turned half way from him. As he stood looking down at the curve of her cheek, the delicacy of her throat and grace of her shoulder and breast, his breath quickened.
 The memory of her kiss last night awoke dreams. Suddenly the attitude he had worn dropped from him. He stopped toward her. then abruptly strengthened. The morning conversa- tion ran through his thought.
 'I suppose you feel SOL He turned away. "I thought I could let things end as you wanted them to this morn ing, and I might have had you been less-less cold tonight"
 ''I am not cold, Jerry. I don't feel so.'' -s
 ''But your voice sounds like barb ed icicles.''
 Its just by natural tone. isn't it?"
 "You know it is not.''
 He came back and stood beside her, torn between a desire to lift her in his arms and the impulse to rage at her apparent contempt of him.
 You asked me to go and fish. You said you wanted me to come back with a peace that might leave your memories unshattered- I did it. What has d:spleased you?"
 She did not answer at once. He saw her breast heave as though she struggled with some overpowering emotion.
 Fearful of her next speech he waited.