The Wolf Point herald. (Wolf Point, Mont.) 1913-1940, 1929-08-09

told him. Anyhow, I've a million
things to do"
Il love you, Catherine Agnes
he interrupted solemnly.
Kitty hated the name she had
taken in confirmation. The sis
tiers made her do it, because
Agnes was her patron saint. But
now she ignored Rogers teasing.
"Me too," she told him.
1t was their little signal. If
there was NO one near, Kitty would
whisper over the wires each night:
81 love you, sweetheart" But if
there were girls in the corridor,
waiting for the booth, then Kitty,
when Roger repeated the holy
ritual of lovers, would reply so
that he might know there were
listeners about, and the converse
ton was shortly concluded.
phone me in the morning."
you bet. Good night, Kitty
girl"
He hung up the receiver YEARLY,
and sat dejectedly on the bed,
staring blankly.
"Oh, God, what a messi"
Kitty's fiance had succeeded re-
markedly in a business way. The
girls agreed that Kitty had done
nrattu wall NV harcaIf
Nov if you a only hold him.
they told her, and warned her out
of their hard young wisdom. THE
more he has known of the many,
the less he will settle to one"
For Caldwell had been as not
oriously successful with women as
with real estate.
The suite he occupied at the
Fairmore was indicative of his
momentary achievements. Sybil
would be impressed with the lux
ury of his surroundings.
A small glow of satisfaction in
truded upon his misery. Better
that she found him this way than
a broken wreck of a thing in that
hospital ward in Washington. He
didn't want her pity-not by a
darn sight. He hoped she wouldn't
think she had to resurrect their
romance. Now, if Kitty
He ground his heel into the
softness of an Oriental rug, and
paced restlessly about. Sybil was
wonderful-no doubt about it. He
remembered now every detail of
their youthful passion. The way
her soft arms crept about his
khaki shoulders until the fingers
clasped behind his neck, and she
drew his face to hers. The agony
of their parting-and the way she
God bless her darling
heart! They'd wanted so fearful
ly to be married. What a differ
ent story life would have been!
No use philosophizing about that.
Different, too, if they had found
each other six months ago. Now
there was Kitty; gentle little
He was the luckiest fel-
low in the world to have her.
Sweet. Innocent.
Sybil was different. She'd been
through the mill. a married wo-
man now, with a baby. Somehow,
Kitty, Sybil looked hard
and a little weary. Freshness
vas something to worship. There
was a bit of the spiritual in Kitty's
charm. 1t set her apart
rom all the other jaded little
girls.
The discordant note of the tele-
,hone interrupted his medita-
ions.
"Hello!- Oh, hello, Sybil. I'll
,e right down"
She was sitting in a big chair in
he foyer, one slim knee thrown
yer the other, and a dainty foot (
winging nervously. Pale with
he sophisticated pallor smart wo-
affect, with lips painted vivid
z. Her costume was smartly
lack, relieved by pearls about
er throat and in her r
"John!" She rose to meet him, :
xtending her hand.
"Sybil! My dear!" .
The little girl for whom his :
cart had ached in throes of :
-ucifying tenderness. The darl- :
Ig child who brought him fudge
Devens, and knit his socks that :