San Antonio light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1911-1993, 1925-11-25

ole thing, I'm all rlgnC now.
1t seemed so gay to toss
the beautiful flowers over
the old black banister, to
come running down, excited
and laughing.
She felt tears on her mothers face
and wished to cling to her mothers
warm, plump hands. She wanted tc
say: "why, 1 thought you were glad,
Isabella !"
But the rice and petals came at
them in a shower. Murillo caught her
arm. She waved a kiss backward. He
was helping her into the car.
He stopped down. She felt the heat
Of his breath and suddenly as he had
in the church, he pressed his lips full
on her mouth. Were Off" he whis-
pered exultantly.
Sandy gave little catchy laugh and
trembled.
The road before them was dark. Low
trees thronged together in forlorn,
shadowy concourse. They drove swift
ly.
And Sandy, sitting low in the deep
cushions, held her hands tightly
clasped. She felt her eyes burning and
wide open, her breath hard to draw.
She was married now. Ben Murillo
was her husband. She was driving
away with him. They would be alone
long while.
She said this. Her heart began to
pound. Married-she was married
going away alone.
They sped onward. The trees grew
blacker. They were gaunt and lonely
looking.
Sandy started at them. She wanted
to cry out; wanted to tell someone
she was frightened. She felt cold and
forsaken.
1t seemed incredible, this quick, wild
ride she was taking. She wanted to
talk, but her lips were SO stiff. She
felt as though she were alone in the
car and it were dashing into an I'M
known sunless region-away from the
earth; from laughter and warmth.
If she were only back in the garden
hiding in Timmy's arms. Oh, il it
were only Jimmy she had chosen, she
could reach out her hand now and
say: Gee, Jimmy, I'm scared-I feel
the queerest-" and he would look
down at her in his sweet boys way
and answer: "Lord, kid, som r." And
they would laugh gaily and kiss each
other.
She shut her eyes. No, she wasn't
going to cry. Brazen things out-that
was the way.
In the darkness she could see Mu-
rillo's hands on the wheel. She could
see the white cuffs. They showed
inches below his coat sleeve. She
stared at them. Tears rushed down
her cheeks-oh, at least, he could have
kept his cuffs up!
She felt terribly wronged by the
sight of those cuffs. She said with n
gulp, "Why are you driving so quick
ly?"
He turned. She could see his eyes,
dark, possessive. He laughed. n soft,
questioning laugh, "Why am hurry
ing. Sandy? Ten minutes more, darl.
ing!"
"Ten minutes? Aren't we driving
to Riverside? That's where you said"
"Yes, but not tonight. Did you
think we'd drive five or six hours on
this night?"
She couldn't speak. A dry. soaring
flush that seemed to pulse from her
heart outward went over her whole
body-made her weak.
They drove deeper into the foot
hills. They were in grove of oak
trees. Before them, set on a little
eminence, was long, rambling struc-
ture built around n garden. In the
driveway were palms and fountain
that looked very chilly in the noon
light.
Murillo said: Here, Sandy; you've
never been here. It's quite the place"
She looked very slim and tall in that
dove colored outfit, with the soft fur
against her bright hair. And he
smiled like n courtier as he helped
her out. But her feet were lcaden.
She watched him sign the register
-"B. Murillo and wife" She felt like
shrieking with laughter-like running
away.
But she followed him TO broad
staircase. They were shown to n big.
fCc,firrod IN po0o. on Part ~