The Bismarck tribune. [volume] (Bismarck, N.D.) 1916-current, 1933-09-18
CHAPTER FORTY


In her fortnight way Patricia had
told her father Of her letter to Jim
mic and what she proposed. He
seemed undisturbed.
Exactly what her feeling for
Jack was, she never analysed. She
had welcomed his arrival in Paris
Is she had always welcomed him
in Palm Beach.
She wrote Jimmie long heart
burning letters from Paris in
which she reiterated her love and
her impatience. He wrote her
brief, but tender letters telling lit
tie beyond the fact that his feel
ing for her was unchanged. He
was but waiting for Pam to take
some action. They lived under the
same roof. went about together;
but the door between their rooms
had never opened. Since that night
in Palm Beach they had not so
much as exchanged = kiss of
goodbye or greeting when one or
the other went away for . few
days.
But time went on, and Pamela
made no move, gave no hint Of her
intention. She wrote to Patricia
and her father jointly; chatty out.
ide letters, telling them all that
went on around her, all she was
doing, but nothing from the inside
of her.
Patricia didn't like to think Of
Pamela. When thoughts like nau-
seous maggots gnawed at her con-
sciousness, she would throw them
out, assuring herself with fierce
determination that she had done no
wrong to Aunt Pam. Had Aunt Pam
not really left Jimmie in her heart.
even before that winter in Palm
Beach7 But why was she staying
on if not because she hoped
Tor some adjustment other than q
Paris divorce?
She chafed against ,r situa-
ton, but it was not her way ia
brood. Both shs and Jack were
studying, working faithfully. Their
play hours were spent together.
They prowled the city: Joined the
Montparnasse satellites 1t the side
walk cafes Of evenings. had part
in the unending arguments while
they watched the strange motley
life Of the b6ulevards 60 by. Often,
too, Jack carried her away to one
Of the grand cafes where the Mont
parnasse crowd went not.
"1s there any place in the world
% perfect ~ the Bots on . Spring
night sighed Patricia.
They wers driving in ! close lit
tie cab. with tho top thrown hack.
White roads winding. Old trees
huddled in velvet shadows. Black
waters cleaning between. Gentle
wind tanning their cheeks, rum
ping her perfumed hair. Above
them the great silver moon swan
IN pale seas.
n think III have to b goinx
home soon," he said presently. 'sIt's
time ! settled down to work. I'm
twenty-seven and not started"
Somehow, I can't imagine Paris
without you," she said with . catch
ct her heart. you've become part
Of it."
mo, ! haven't become part Of
It. I've merely yielded myself 20
it because Of what it held. I don't
like it. There's something exotic
and strained here; . determined
gaiety that doesn't ring true e
me-"
Il feel like that sometimes. And
grow homesick. But Of course,
I've no home to 60 back to-" she
said. And Immediately she wished
she hadn't added that last.
poor little giH." He put his arm
around her. Not IS lover, but Is
: friend.
She had m impulse toward re-
sistahce; then she let him draw her
gently against him. There was
something. very comforting about
the feel Of bis arm. even . littla
exciting. fhA was al. ct once lone.
y and oppressed. The heady per-
Il A. E