The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1933-10-14
dozqodte,n MegHoo1t
By Mn R4moo SGsses ...~-~-


Lay of Claire. will you. Pat?"
Jerry had replied angrily. I've
known her all my life. Isn't 1t nat
ural we should have the same
friends?"
Jerry had been busy lot lately,
but he always had plausible alibi.
Joan went upstairs TO see Benny.
We'll. old timer, how goes the bat
tle7" She stopped and kissed him.
Pretty well. I'm glad you're back,
Joan. Have a good timer"
"Oh, swell" said Joan.
That's good. Hows Bob?"
"Fine!"
Il guess I'll be seeing him soon"
Benny said.
Joan went into her room. She
was glad the trip was behind her.
The while affair had begun to seem
like dream, and the hurts and
humiliations like fantastic figures
in a nightmore.
1t was hard to realize that only
this morning she had slipped into
her clothes while Barbara was still
sleeping soundly, with the rain
washing against the windows. Joan
had gone into the dark hall and
knocked at the door leading into
Carols room.
Carols amazed eyes had met
I'm going back to Memphis with
jim" Joan had stated simply.
"Oh, you arel"
ut was lovely Of you to include
me on the party. It's been wonder
full. Please say a good-hy to Mrs.
Sheridan for me-"
I'm terribly sorry you must 60"
Polite lies piling on top Of each
other. What if people were honest?
How false and insincere they were,
smiling and saying pleasant things
while dislike and contempt were ex-
posed in their eyes.
Picking up her light bags, Joan
had walked down the circular stair
into the gray gulf that was the hall.
I'm had come to meet her, max
" ing it easy for her with his
light, Going with me? This is
great! Not afraid of getting a bit
wet?"
Joan thinking. "I'd rather drown
than stay!"
Then the car cutting through the
rain and wind and mud. Clarks-
dale, seen through a blur of fine
rain. Tunica, Robinsonville, Walls.
And on until the familiar Parkway
was reached. And now back home.
She would never see Bob again.
1t had been mistake ever to
imagine she could hold him with a
world full of girls to chose from
gay, careless, lovely girls who knew
mems moods and how to please
them.
Joan told herself she would forget
him. She never again would let
herself think of Bob's teasing gray
eyes, his deep voice, the clipped
sentences, of his dear, blond head
and his face tanned by exposure.
1t was all over with Bob. He
had proved 1t conclusively. He
could not have made it clearer if
he had said, 1--WE watched you two
girls and I've chosen Barbara. She
has the things I want, the things
I'm used battle-ground, easy
manners"
The days dragged on. Joan was
saying to herself, 1.-TWO weeks since
I've seen him." And again, Three
weeks And then, TITS been a
month"
But there was no outward sign
to betray the inner upheaval the
pounding of her heart when the tel
ephone rang, the tenseness when
automobile brakes ground outside
her home at night or the doorbell
rang.
Often, 1t would be Sara tele-
phoning, consulting about some de-
tail Of her wedding plans. Sara
and Bill were to be married in June.
1t would be quiet wedding, but
Sara would have pretty things, and
afterward they would move into a
small. attractive apartment.
Sometimes it would be Jerry. He
did not come as often as in the
past. When men were sure they
grew careless, Joan thought. This
was new cyniciSm.
Or it might be Jim War1eld, who
would have taken more Of Joan's
time If she had encouraged him.
Dick Thornton, still devoted, though
Joan was much too honest to pre-
tend what she could never feel,
called occasionally.
She was steeling herself against
the telephone these days, fighting
the impulse to search the crowd on
the street for a beloved face, or to
turn to the social columns Of the
newspaper to receive a fresh wound
by reading Bob's name.
Ito Be COntinued)