The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1933-10-18
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Don't darling You must be quiet.
II wasn't your fault. You couldn't
have prevented it."
Then he Is dead" Pat began
brokenly. oh, my Cod" Convul-
sive emotion swept her again while
she chung TO Joan.
1t was all my fault, Joan He
was angry with me. If We had
stayed
1T might have happened any,
way, Pat. You must believe that"
But Pat couldn't believe it. Her
bright head, a mass Of tangled hair,
moved from side 10 side on the pill
low Now and then a moan escaped
her parched lips.
oh, Joan. I want to die! Why
didn't they let me die? I can't bear
to live. knowing I killed Jerry"
Hush, dear. You weren't to
blame. Jerry was driving like a
mailman, they said. 1t was a mir
acle you both weren't killed"
over and over the pitiful, broken
voice, ooh, Joan, if I had died too.
I can't bear to live nowi"
A nurse in a crisp white uniform
came quietly into the room, lifted
Pats head and placed a glass
against her lips. Drink this" she
said kindly. You'll feel better in
a little while"
Joan, wiping the tears from her
own face, saw the stricken eyes
closing, and watched peace slip
ping like a calm mask over Pats
tortured face.
DOB could not sleep. He had
I'D flung himself into bed around
2 O'Clock, feeling that he was
definitely through.
Any girl who could continue to
play around with a weak idiot like
jim Warfeld wasn't worth worrying
about. That was all Now that
everything was settled, he would go
to sleep and forget her Forget
how her slim, young form had
yielded to his arms during that
waltz forget her funny little smile,
the smoky blue eyes and cloudy
hair.
But, despite his resolutions. sleep
refused to come and he tossed from
side to side, staring at the ceiling
or wall. 1t was only after he had
decided that it would be more
sensible to have it out with Joan,
to tell her precisely what he thought
of her behavior, that the nervous
tension relaxed.
And then sleep was out Of the
question. He waited impatiently for
daylight and an hour when he could
properly call joan Eight thirty
would be all right. It seemed i'm
possible to wait longer. He would
ask her to see him later in order to
talk things over.
Once this decision was made, he
felt better. Light-hearted. He was
whistling softly when he turned on
his bath. He should have talked to
Joan before. Laid the cards on the
table.
Good morning, Bob" his father
said as Bob entered the living room
Of the suite. You seem pretty spry
for a young man who hasn't had
much sleep" The elder Weston laid
the morning newspaper on his lap
as he spoke.
Bob grinned. Wouldn't the old
chap be surprised to know he hadn't
slept at all
Misunderstanding girl you were
talking to yesterday afternoon. Is
she the one you wrote me about?"
Bob redeemed. Sly old fox! Dad
was clever.
yes, that was Joan Waring"
Il was wondering if she might be
related to the girl in this auto
mobile accident-?"
What accident?" The hand he
stretched out for the paper was I'M
steady. He had let Joan go home
with jim, knowing Jim was drunk.
If Joan was hurt!
But it was not Joan. The laugh
ing, merry face of Pat leaped out at
him from the printed page. Pat was
pictured, dressed IN a fluffy white
frock Probably a commencement
frock.
"Ghastly accident" Bob said aft
er a moment. I'm glad the poor
kid was not seriously hurt" He sat
down, reached for a cigaret, puffed
it a moment and ground it against
an ash tray. Then almost imme-
diately he lit another.
Ills father, noting the betrayihg
L Z signs, said: You thought it
was the sister"
Yes" Bob answered. The fell
low she was with last night had
been drinking"
Bob, you didn't let me know
how much you cared for this girl.
You are pretty far gone, aren't
your"
I'm afraid So"
why afraid?" his father per-
sisted.
ITO Be Continued